


Where's my angel

by Itsnotbroken



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Angst, Barebacking, Bottom Castiel (Supernatural), Canon Elements, Dom/sub Undertones, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Phone Sex, Season/Series 15 Spoilers, Tattooed Castiel (Supernatural), They kind of adopt Miracle because yes, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Top Dean Winchester, Trigger Warning: Cancer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28655280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itsnotbroken/pseuds/Itsnotbroken
Summary: His mother always told him that angels were watching over him. Dean didn't believe it. How could he? She was dead, his father was an alcoholic seeking revenge against the world and he never was a child, he had to cover the role of a mother and a father for his brother Sam. But then things took a positive turn. He's in college now, his dad is back in their lives and everything seems to keep getting better and better.Castiel believed in the existence of angels with all his heart, but every tragic event in his life seemed to suggest him otherwise.At some point, he simply stopped believing. He covered himself with tattoos, detached himself from what he loved the most, he carried on only meaningless relationships and harmful behaviors.Their lives meet, their love was not meant to be, yet it happens and upsets everything.** Read carefully tags and warnings, this story deals with heavy themes that not everybody might enjoy. **
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is mostly already written. It will not be left abandoned and I'll try to update every week. English is not my first language, but I tried my best :)  
> Comments are appreciated. Enjoy!

  


  
~

  
He didn't know the exact moment he fell in love with Castiel.

Maybe he was lost from the very beginning, when he saw something more, shining in the depth of those blue eyes, in that smile of damned angel. Maybe it was when Cas took him to see the ocean or when they did it for the first time in the back seats of the Impala. Maybe it was when Cas told him about the angels or again, when Dean put his head on his lap and the boy started reading him stories.  
Dean didn’t know.  
Maybe it was each of those times.  
Maybe, he just kept falling in love with him over and over, and every time it was never the same.

Dean met him on a Thursday afternoon, it was September 18th.

  
  
  
~

  
Dean was in the library and he was surprised by that too. Maybe it was true that college changed people or maybe it was because he didn't think he'd ever get there, in the first place. The years of work, the years spent filling in for a father who had never been there, hadn't given him hope for anything more than a high school diploma and he'd doubted even that...Finding himself here in Berkeley, California, and having the chance to attend college, still felt like the beginning of a dream.

“Hey bitch, wassup?” Was followed by a hit on Dean’s shoulder.

“OW!”

“Wow, I thought you manlier than that.”

“Ah ah ah.”

Charlie Bradbury. Red hair, bold smile, nerdy t-shirts and the cheerfulness of a 10-year-old. An animated dialogue about the Star Wars saga ended in knowing smiles had been enough to understand that the girl would have been his friend. Dean may have been the football star in high school but he had his own little obsessions. Star Wars and Harrison Ford were among them.

“You know, Henriksen definitely hates you.”  
Henriksen was the math professor. The man hadn't much sympathy for him. The feeling was mutual.  
“Noticed Charles.”

“Charles?” She aked in an indignant voice. Dean chuckled.

She pulled the computer out of her bag, which was covered in rainbow stickers. Charlie was a lesbian and she was very proud of it. As far as he was concerned, Dean had only discovered his bisexuality a few years earlier, when he’d done a couple of not-so-eterosexual things with his teammate Aaron, at a party. At first, he’d been afraid but then he'd learned to accept that part of himself too. Sam and his dad still knew nothing. Dean wasn't concerned about how his brother would take it. It was John the one who scared him.

“So, computer science.” Charlie interrupted his thoughts, bringing him to reality.

"Already?"

“We are in a university library, so, yes, already. I remind you that you were the one begging me on your knees and telling me- "

"-I don't remember it that way-"

"-that I, and here I quote, the magnanimous Charlie with my innate nerd skills, am your only hope.”

"Whatever, Charles.”

"Plus if you didn't feel like studying, there would have been better places to have fun.”

“Well, yes...like-”

"-LARPing,” she mouthed excited.

"Seriously?" Dean raised an eyebrow. Charlie just smiled.

He was about to turn on the computer, when he saw _him_.

The library finally fell silent, (or maybe it was just Dean's head) when around the corner came the most handsome boy he’d ever seen. The steps were firm, the black lines of tattoos contrasted on his tanned skin, his eyes thundering with deep blue, dark hair, defined cheekbones and sharp jawline.  
It looked like he had been carved out of marble. He should probably be in a museum being revered as well. 

Dean was melting on the table and was barely hearing Charlie's voice calling him.

When he was about to regain his brainpower, the boy shifted his gaze to him and Dean could do nothing more. He stood motionless, as if hypnotized by the deep blue of those eyes.  
  
Charlie slapped him on the shoulder and he almost jumped out of his chair. (Not one of his proudest moments, if you ask him.)

"Jesus Christ, Charlie!” He turned to her through gritted teeth as he felt his face burning.

"I repeat, I thought you more of a man than that.” She put a hand in front of her mouth as if to physically fend off laughter. Dean glared at her for a while longer and then turned his gaze to the boy.

_Shit_

He was still there, looking smugly at him. Illuminated by the soft daylight that filtered through the ceiling skylight, he might as well have been a god. Dean would have worshipped him without problems.

The boy smiled devilishly at him, winked and left as he had arrived, quietly and yet with everyone's attention.

"Fuck me.”

"I think he would.”

"Oh my God, Charlie!”

"What? Castiel Novak who looks at you like that is stronger than the words ‘I wanna take ya to bed’.”

"Cassstel who?"

"Now that I think about it, you two together would be so fuckin' hot, I swear.”

At that Dean laughed."Are you having a sexuality crisis?"

"Oh don't worry, Scarlett Joahnsson is still my wet dream. That doesn't mean I can't appreciate something aesthetically appealing, Dean.”

"Hmm.”

Dean noticed that everyone in the library was looking at him with a mixture of wonder and suspicion. “So, this guy...?”

“Hmmm.”

“Charlie!”

“Castiel, Novak. Second year, literature. Known and loved by everyone. Your classic bad boy with anger issues and incapable of emotional closeness to people.”

"Hm...apparently, not everyone loves him.”

"Yeah, you could say I'm not one of his fans.” She said nothing more.

"Everything good?"

Charlie looked at him strangely. “I know I was joking about it before but...don't hit on him, trust me, he's nothing special. Everyone falls in love with him and no one stays. I think he breaks their hearts first.”

Charlie changed the subject soon after. Dean realized he had to let it go and yet, for the whole afternoon, he did nothing but wonder why Charlie was so down in the dumps and why everyone fell in love with the boy but never stayed.

He thought back to Charlie's words, to her warning but he already knew there was no escape. That night, he dreamed of a ragged leather jacket and disarming blue eyes.

~

Despite being close by, his apartment was not part of the campus complex. That's why his father made him take his beloved car with him. A '67 Chevy Impala. Now, Dean wasn't one for bragging but he was particularly proud of that car, especially because he'd built it like new with his own hands. In the past, he used to vent his anger and repress his pain with alcohol, then he'd realized that he was becoming more and more like his father and he'd learned to unload his frustration on something useful, something that soon had turned into a passion.

Without realizing it, he was smiling, still marveling at how things had changed so far.  
Speaking of wonder... big shoulders, narrow waist, tight leather jacket around the biceps, jeans that wrapped muscular thighs. This was the sight that awaited Dean Winchester outside college on Monday morning.

That guy, who Dean had a sudden interest in meeting, had just gotten off a motorcycle that anyone would envy. (Dean wasn't an expert in that field, but he kwen a Harley when he saw it.)

Then, the boy in question took off his helmet and Dean was greeted by the divine vision that it was Castiel with his tousled hair and his fucking blue eyes pointing straight at him.

_Shit_

Dean turned badly. The car scratched Castiel's motorcycle, emitting a screeching sound, and nearly crashed into the pavement.  
 _Shitshitshit_  
If he wanted to impress him, he succeeded, but it probably wasn't the kind of impression that would lead to a languid kissing session on the hood of the car. Oh, no. Dean would have been smashed on the windshield instead and not in a sexy way, probably after a straight punch in the face.  
 _Fuck his life_

He turned off the engine and lowered his head. He recited a few prayers under his breath, including that of being swallowed ten meters underground and raised his head, slowly opening his eyes. He still wasn't ready for what he saw.  
Castiel was headed toward him in all his glorious fury. The leather jacket was untied, revealing a white shirt that left little to the imagination. His eyes scorching, his hair disheveled, as if someone had tightened them around their fingers and—NO, absolutely not. He didn't need to add an erection to the list of mortifying things that had happened in the last two minutes.

He rolled down the window and tried to give a convincing smile. Castiel was suddenly there in front of him, carrying the smell of leather and mint and fuck, is that an eyebrow piercing? Needless to say, his brain stopped working.

“Ah it's you Squirrel”  
 _His voice nnngggg_. Maybe that erection would have ended up on the list.

"Huh?"

Castiel laughed softly and turned his head, nodding to those who were probably his friends. Dean managed to catch his breath now that those eyes weren't on him. It didn't last long.

"You got a license, squirrel?"

He gaped. "Casstel, uhm, yeah, I don't—I assure you that I took it legally and that I can drive, even if you wouldn't tell from, well, what you saw and-" _please stop_ "-it doesn't happen often, believe me. Never actually happened, maybe I just got close once or twice before and- I...pay it back?" The question came out in a fine voice, as if he'd returned to before puberty. _Great_

Castiel didn't seem angry, he smiled instead."Castiel.”

"Come again?"

"Cas-t-i-e-l. That's my name. It's not, well, whatever you said before.”  
Now that he knew, Dean felt the urge to repeat it over and over but thank God he actually didn't.  
“Relax, anyway. It's just a scratch.”

Dean snorted. Cas looked at him tilting his head. How someone deadly could suddenly be so adorable Dean didn't know.  
"So, that's it?"

"Why shouldn't it be?"

"No offense Cas, but you don't exactly look like all flowers and candies.”

Castiel seemed amused, probably had been from the start.  
The boy moved away from the window and raised an eyebrow and why did he suddenly feel like he was in Rio de Jainero? Oh yeah, maybe because that was the sexiest thing he'd ever had the pleasure of witnessing. If Cas had decided to kill him, it wouldn't have mattered, he'd have died a happy man.

"Cas, huh?"  
 _Shit_  
"Anyway, if you really want to repay me for the damage, Dean,” Castiel's face came dangerously close to his. "I know better ways than money to make amends.”  
 _Dean? How did he know his name? Other ways ???? Oh...It's not happening, probably the alarm still has to go off and this never happened. You're just sexually repressed Dean and your subconscious did the rest._

Castiel gave a sharp blow to the car that nearly made him jump off the seat and winked as he walked away. The tight jeans to accompany the sinuous movement of his legs.

Hours later, Dean was pretty sure he was still dreaming. He changed his mind when, with classes over, he went to his car and Castiel's bike was still next to his, scratched on the side, because of Dean dumb Winchester.  
He thought about calling Charlie and telling her what had happened, but then he remembered how she’d reacted the other day at the mention of Castiel. So he just drove home, in the background the AC⚡️DC.

_She had the sightless eyes, telling me no lies_   
_Knocking me out with those American thighs_

He was absolutely not thinking about Castiel's legs wrapped in those fucking jeans  
Nuh-uh.

_You shook me all night long_

~

The apartment was located a few kilometers from college. He shared it with a guy from Louisiana named Benny. Tall, muscular, clear blue eyes and a charming smile. Dean would have shamelessly hit on him if the guy in question a) wasn't his roommate for the whole year to come, a not-so-important detail b) hadn't been in a relationship with a gorgeous girl named Andrea for over four years, a less negligible detail.  
Little did it matter anyway, Dean doubted there could have been room in his head for anyone other than Castiel. The worrying thing was that he’d only met the boy twice and they had been one more humiliating than the other, at least for him.

“Hey brotha.”  
Benny was already at the door to greet him. A shining smile on his face. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Benny, Andrea is a very lucky woman, let me tell you.”

The boy walked away laughing and disappeared into the kitchen. Dean was a lucky roommate, Benny loved to cook and always had something ready for him.

They ate, talking and joking from time to time. On more than one occasion, Dean was tempted to ask Benny how much he knew about Castiel Novak but he refrained every time. He was afraid Benny’s reaction would have been similar to Charlie’s.

He looked at the time. It was late and tomorrow he had an appointment with the redhead at the library, after lessons. It wouldn’t have been a light day. He decided to call Sam another time and simply went to sleep.

  
His dreams were once again haunted by Castiel and the next morning he still seemed to remember the angelic taste of those lips.

~

Unexpected things seemed to happen again and again in Dean’s life.  
The day after he scratched Castiel’s bike, (though he still tried to convince himself it never happened) he noticed a piece of paper stuck under the seat of his car.  
“What the fuck!”  
He picked it up.  
On the top there was a phone number written in pencil, on the bottom, a note:

_call me;)_

_(for that compensation)_

_I’ll be damned_

He hit himself on the head just to be sure he wasn’t hallucinating or something, but the paper was still there, the message unchanged. He got out of the car with the note in his hands. His gaze intensely studying those lined up numbers as if they were an encrypted code, and he was an agent of the Pentagon entrusted with the fate of the world.  
Busy as he was, he didn’t see where he was walking and he ran into someone. In his defence, it was still early morning, the reflexes were what they were and the university was full of people and he was still trying to figure out what was going on.  
  
The crashing made him backed a few steps. _Christ, a marble statue would have been softer_  
He lifted his gaze, an apology already on the tip of his tongue, and speaking of statues carved in marble, that, in front of him, was no other than Castiel’s back.

“Jesus.”

“Guess again.”  
Castiel’s hoarse, deep voice went straight to his dick and the situation had the potential to get even more awkward.

Instead of apologising right away, Dean got lost for a while admiring those blue eyes, the unruly hair, the sharp line of the cheekbones. The boy had the same shred-leather jacket he’d seen him wearing in the library.

“Dean?”  
 _Those lips_

“Cas,” he swallowed. “We should stop meeting like this.”

Castiel tilted his head to the side in a gesture that Dean would call adorable, were it not accompanied by a broad smile showing all his teeth.  
“What do you mean?”

Dean let out an embarrassed giggle. “You know...the all me making an ass out of myself and making you hate me in the process.”  
For a moment, he was distracted by those who supposedly were Castiel’s friends. They didn’t seem too friendly, they already had a mocking look on their faces hearing him talking.  
However, as if to claim his attention, Castiel came even closer to him and once again, the air was flooded with the inebriating scent of leather and fresh mint. Only now did he notice Cas was chewing a piece of candy.  
 _Would it be weird for Dean wantig to be a piece of candy?_  
 _Disputable question._

"I don't know. You making an ass out of yourself, as you say...I find it funny.”

_Asshole_

"For now. Who knows what I'll do next.”

Castiel just smiled back at him. Then his gaze focused on something else entirely and his eyes lit up, like a cat's.  
"I see you got my note.”

"So was it really yours? Breaking into people's cars isn't nice, Cas.”

Castiel looked even more amused. "The window was open.”

"Oh.”  
 _Well done, my friend_  
"Well, uhm...Now that we know you didn't illegally break into my car, I think I better leave. My dignity holds up to a certain point.”  
 _What dignity??_

“Right...before you go, I’d appreciate an apology for bumping into me and calling me a criminal.” He raised his eyebrow, the movement causing the piercing to glisten, and Dean felt the urge to present himself with his ass up high in the air.

His face reddened at the thought and Cas seemed to notice, but fortunately he didn’t say anything. Instead, he stood silent and took the note out of Dean's hands, studying it.

Only then he took notice how full of tattoos Castiel’s hands were. Before he could investigate and study any of them, Cas gave him the paper back and Dean felt himself shiver at the mere touch of their hands. It seemed to have the same effect on Castiel, because he found those eyes pointing straight at him.

The tension in the air was palpable and Dean wouldn’t have been able to hold out much longer. He licked his lips, feeling them suddenly dry, and saw Castiel’s gaze following voraciously the movement. Suddenly, that languid kissing session Dean dreamt about no longer seemed so impossibile and Castiel opened his mouth and Dean was ready, he’d have done anything he asked him to and—“You got a stain on your shirt, Dean.”

_What??_

“Are you coming or not, Clarance?” He heard the annoying voice of a girl at the same time Castiel whispered:“I hope to hear from you soon, green eyes.”  
He smirked and whirled around, taking with him the smell of mint candy and the last crumb of dignity Dean had left.

Needless to say, after such a meeting, he managed to follow little or nothing in class. In the notebooks, instead of notes, a telephone number was written over and over again. If anyone had found those pages, they’d have locked him up in an asylum without asking questions first.

That same afternoon, as scheduled, he met again with Charlie and the redhead hit him on the head two or three times in a row. “It’s to make something happen in there, Dean,” she would say amused.

Sometimes, Charlie seemed tempted to ask him something. Probably why his head would lose focus after two words or why his gaze would search every corner of the library. In the end, she didn’t say anything if not when they finished studying and were out of college.

“See you, bitch.”

The two bumped fists and exchanged amused smiles. Then Charlie got more serious. “I know we don’t really know each other very well Dean, but you can talk to me, if you need to. I want you to know that.” She smiled openly at him.

Dean was going to tell her. He was about to confess that Castiel seemed to be the source of all his thoughts, of how they continued to meet by chance and how each time the boy impressed himself a little more in his mind. Then he remembered the discussion they had the other day and the sad expression on Charlie’s face as she spoke of Cas. He didn’t feel like it anymore.

“It's nothing. Thank you anyway, Charles. You’re the best.”

“Nothing new there. See you, Loosechester,” she said walking away. Dean laughed, then put his hand in his pocket.

Castiel’s note was still there with him.

~

Dean couldn’t refrain himself any longer and that same evening he told Benny everything.

Listening to him, the boy sported an odd face and when he started talking about the car episode, Dean began to worry about the expressions Benny was making. His face was swollen, his cheeks were red and his veins enlarged.

"You all right, buddy?"

Benny burst out laughing, clapping his hand repeatedly on the table, as if to applaud and thank the world for the existence of idiots like Dean. 

Dean looked at him with a disgusted expression. "a) I wasn't finished b)-"

"Oh my God, there's more?"

"You know, what? Fuck you, Benny.”  
He stood up and carried his plate into the kitchen.

Soon after, Benny joined him. “What? Did you come for the second round of laughter?” He said, dealing with the dirty dishes.

Benny was at his side.  
“Look, Dean a) You can’t expect to say things like that and people won’t start laughing.”  
Dean rolled his eyes but smiled.  
“And b) how’s your story going? If you don’t want me to laugh, don’t tell me the third inconvenience.”

“You know what, you’ve been keeping me fed for almost a month now, I think I owe you a laugh.”

Dean told him everything. He also mentioned Charlie and how she had reacted to the possibility that he might be interested in knowing Castiel. Benny followed him the whole time.

“Listen here brother, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with chasing what you want and he seems more than interested too, but...” Benny stopped, looking at the ground. He seemed to have trouble finding the right words.  
“Castiel? He’s something else,” he said shrugging.

Dean looked at him confused. “What I mean, Cher, is that here on campus his reputation precedes him and if you decide to call him, do so knowing that what you will find is not a relationship.”

The room fell silent.  
Dean knew guys like Castiel. In high school he had been one of them but he’d changed, maybe so could the other boy... He snorted at his own thought. He didn’t really believe it, he hand’t the presumption of being able to change people.

“You’re right, Benny.”  
He barely smiled saying it and Benny got up from the floor where they were sitting and patted him on the shoulder.

“Good night, Dean.”

He closed the door to his bedroom, leaving Dean sitting in the living room, alone with his own thoughts.

“Night,” he whispered.

~

It had been a week since the last time he’d seen Castiel and in the meantime the days had suddenly grown colder. It was the middle of October, after all.  
So, no more awkward close encounters with the boy of his dreams. He should have been happy about it, no opportunity to hurt his dignity even more and yet, he always hoped Castiel would suddenly pop up and win him over with his devastatingly beauty, just as he’d done the first time.

Dean hasn’t called him yet. He didn’t have the courage to do it, but he knew that seeing those blue eyes and that fierce smile once more would have been enough to find the right motivation.  
He told Benny he’d threw away Castiel’s number and Dean knew it would have been for the better.  
He wonder why then, he still kept it carefully in the drawer next to his bed as if he were a pimply 15-year-old in the middle of her first “love.”

Apparently, his teenage girl crush wasn’t going unnoticed as much as he wanted.

“Okay Dean,” Charlie said, putting her hands up in a gesture that simply meant ‘okay, I give up and I’m sick of your bullshit.’

It was afternoon and they were in the library “studying”. Dean could count on one hand the times he’d actually looked at the computer or the books on the desk and not even two hands were enough to count the times he’d turned to look at whoever entered the library. It seemed Charlie had enough of it.

"He won’t come.”

“Who? What are you even talking about?" He opted for ignorance.

"I've been patient, Winchester. Don't try to fill me with your bullshit even more than you already did over the last weeks.” She said it in a tone that didn't allow for any retort, the pen in her hand pointed dangerously at his chest. Dean felt confident enough in his manhood to admit he was afraid.

"How do you know?"

Charlie rolled her eyes. "That you're obsessed with Castiel?"  
Dean felt a little exposed at that and he squirmed lightly in his chair.

"Funny. How do you know he won't come.”

Charlie said nothing for a while.  
"At least you've become aware of your obsession.”

"Fuck you, Charlie.”

She raised an eyebrow, Dean smiled to appease her.  
"Do you really want to know? Do what I told you the other day.”

He snorted. “Are you serious?”

Charlie simply looked at him.

"Fine. My queen.”

"Yes?" Charlie was smiling like crazy.

"Can you tell this humble handmaiden what he so badly wants to know?"

"That's no way to finish a sentence.”

"Please...my...great, beautiful queen?"

Charlie was full of joy. She loved attending the role play that the city held every month in the parks. She was the queen there and she planned on dragging Dean along in the next event and making him her handmaiden. Dean was hoping for a royal guard.

“Now tell me.”

“Hmm.”

“Charlieee.”

The girl fiddled nervously with the pages of the book.  
“Dean, uhm, you should know that Castiel and I...well, we were friends.

“You and Cas what now??”

“Shh! Don’t yell. It was years ago. As you know, I’ve always lived here. At the time, Castiel was new to school. We became friends and then, uhm...we drove apart...Anyway, point is, I know he won’t be here because at this time of the year he always goes to his family, in Illinois.”

“Oh.”  
He would have said more, but there were so many questions on his mind that he didn’t even know where to start.

“Will you tell me more than that or...??”

For the first time, Charlie answered with a forced smile. “Dean, I’m sorry but I don’t really like to talk about it. There’s not much to say anyway.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon mostly in silence.

~

"Are you in there Dean?" Benny knocked on his door.

"Jesus Christ, Benny, are you gonna break the fuckin' door?"

“You're being dramatic and this is the fifth time I've called you.”

Oh. Maybe in this case Dean was the asshole...  
 _Naaaah_  
He took off his headphones.

It was Friday afternoon and he'd already called his brother, who had apparently found a girlfriend in the meantime (yes, a 16-year-old's love life had gotten more interesting than his own, thank you very much). After the call, he’d wanted nothing more than to let himself die on his bed and maybe watch two or three episodes of Dr. Sexy. (To each his own vices.)  
Benny seemed to have other plans.

Dean got up to open the door and _Oh_...Benny had fake blood running on the sides of his mouth, pointed ears and teeth sharper than usual.

"Dean, haven't you changed yet?"

Now, Dean often associated himself with Dori, the fish from the cartoon because a) it’s adorable and loved by everyone b) the memory is the same, still, he believed to have some limits. Apparently, it wasn’t true. He’d forgotten It was Halloween night and the campus was throwing a crazy party, and now his brother's worried expression when Dean had told him on the computer that he had no plans for the night made a lot more sense.  
All because of the math test two days ago. It had fused his brain.

He didn't tell Benny he'd forgotten, it would have been too embarrassing even for him.

“Uh, no, I-I haven’t changed yet because...because...I’m not dressing up. So I'll be quick," he said hoping Benny would buy it.

"I saw you rather relaxed.”

"Impressions,” he said wiping from his mouth the grease of the chips he was eating just a moment ago.

He changed in twenty minutes. Black jeans showing off the right parts of his body, green t-shirt slightly tight across the shoulders and chest and his father's leather jacket. He didn't need anything else.

Benny let out a whistle of encouragement."Damn, do you want to impress someone tonight, brother?" He nudged him in the ribs.  
Dean laughed, shook his head and followed the boy to the car.

On the way to the party, he thought back to Benny's words and patted the pocket of his jeans with his hand. The note was still there.

_Good_

~

They arrived at the party when it had already begun. People were shouting and laughing. Some were drinking, others were dancing to the beat of the music and Dean saw people already being busy and forgetting entirely the meaning of public decency.

“Well, don’t know ‘bout you, guys but I’d like a drink.” Saying this, Benny dragged them into the kitchen. He was completely at ease while searching in the shelves for alcohol. After all, this was his second year of college.

Charlie dressed up as a queen.  
“My queen.”

“See, I did it to make you less uncomfortable when you call me like that.”

Dean had lost a bet and now he had to address Charlie exclusively that way.  
“As one would expect of my queen”, he said, sarcasm evident in his voice.

“Thank God Dean I didn’t make you dress up as a maid.”

_Touche_

“A toast?” Benny was holding three glasses.

“Fuckin’ yes!”

They emptied them.  
 _Eww_  
“What the fuck is that stuff, Benny??”

Benny just smiled, Charlie laughed and the two exchanged knowing glances. “They produce it in this city. Dean meet the so-called motherfucker,” said Charlie.

“Oh, well, the name sure is right. It’s a good thing I can hold my liquor,” he said laughing.

_“It’S A gOoD ThiNg I CaN HolD mY LiQuoR”_  
Dean and his bullshits.

Three hours after arriving at the party, Dean found himself puking his guts out on the toilet of a second-floor bathroom.  
Benny was probably still organizing drinking games, Charlie was definitely at phase two with the girl dressed as a fairy who was making out with no less than an hour ago and Dean, Dean was tempted to spend the rest of the evening lying in a bathtub and trying to sober up.  
Drinking games are no joke and Benny shouldn't believe Dean when he says one of his bullshits.  
Life lessons.

"Christ.”

Now that he'd thrown up all the alcohol he'd ingested and something more, he felt much better. At least, he was able to realize where he was and remember his own name.  
  
He sat down on the edge of the bathtub, put his hand in his pocket and remembered the paper he had brought with him.   
He'd looked everywhere for Castiel that night, but he hadn't seen him. The boy wasn’t there.  
Thankfully, Dean had considered the possibility and hoped he’d be drunk enough to grow the balls and call him.

_Surprise, surprise, he was actually calling him_

_Shitshitshit_   
_What the fuck was he doing?_

Before he could do the sensible thing and end the call, he heard an unmistakable voice on the other end of the line.  
“Hi, squirrel.”  
It was rougher than usual. Castiel had been probably sleeping and Dean had woken him up. And yet, he didn’t feel guilty. After hearing that voice after too damn long, he was feeling fuckin' horny.

He swallowed, took deep breaths and tried to calm down.  
"Why do you call me that? I’d have asked you sooner but every time I'm too busy apologizing for something I've done to you,” he said, maybe slurring a few words in the process. Motherfucker, he should have known from the name that it was a shitty drink.

Castiel chuckled, his voice sounding sultry and gravelly.  
Dean got a boner.

"Because I saw you in the cafeteria one day. You had your mouth and cheeks full of food. From there the nickname came by itself.”

"Oh.”  
The awkward encounters were just their thing.

"Did I wake you up, Cas?"

"No.”  
He heard the sound of a lighter.  
"I didn't expect you to call me. Not after two weeks, not at 2 a.m."

"Well, this is who I am, baby. Unpredictable.” He suggestively moved his eyebrows as if Castiel could see him ( fortunately he couldn’t) and placed his hand under his chin. He lost his balance in the process and slid backwards into the bathtub.

"Motherfucker!”  
The name of that drink was good for something after all.

"Are you drunk, green eyes?" Cas asked amused.

"After this? Not as much as I'd like. Ow, fuck, my head hurts like a bitch.” He moaned at the pain and heard Cas' breathing shorten at the sound.

“Did you fuck someone tonight?"

"What? No!"  
He didn't even know why he’d sounded so offended.

"Hmm, good boy.”

Dean bit his lip, hard, trying to calm down. Little Dean didn't get the point.

"Touch yourself.”

Dean squeezed the cell phone tightly. "Castiel-"

"-You heard me.”

_Shit_

"All right—just...gimme a second.”

He unzipped his pants and took hold of himself, slowly. He shuddered when his erection made contact with the air and he bit his lip to not let any sound out.  
He didn't know how, but Castiel seemed to notice it.  
“Don't you dare keep quiet, green eyes. I want to hear every single sound you make. Now go on, move your hand. Slowly.”

Dean could have come just like that, just with the sound of Castiel's deep voice giving him orders.  
He did as he was told and this time he didn’t suppress any sound when his calloused hand started moving along his length. He imagined it was Cas’.

"Fuck!” Cas voice sounded shattered, his breathing got louder and occasional small moans started leaving his mouth.  
“God, Dean you don't know what-what you do to me....nnggg...you drive me fuckin’ crazy.”

"Yeah?" He managed to ask as his hand began to move faster, spurred on by Castiel's words.

"Yeah, most of the time I don't know if I want to punch you or fuck you.”

“You already know which one I-I prefer.”

"Dean...finish.” He said it panting, his voice thick with pleasure. He had to be close.

It was the thought of the boy basked in the moonlight, with his hair disheveled, his eyes closed and his lips open in one last breathy moan that made him reach orgasm.

“C-as...ahh!” Later he’d be ashamed of the pornographic sound coming out of his mouth, but not at that moment, not with Castiel swearing on the phone and in the afterglow of what had been one of the best orgasms of his life.

There was a moment of silence. The only sound was Cas sucking from what could have been a cigarette and Dean trying to catch his breath.

“Not bad, green eyes.”

Dean let out a throathy chuckle and let himself sink in the bathtub, exhausted. “If I knew, I would’ve called you that same day,” he said, the booze loosing his tongue.

“I thought my signals were clear.”

“You have a stain on your shirt it’s not a signal.”

“Sure ‘bout it?

“Dick.” This time he said it out loud and Castiel chuckled, sounding amused. Dean’s heart skipped a beat. 

He was still pretty drunk. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t help but ask it.  
“Where were you, Cas?”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Good night, Dean,” Cas whispered, ending the call.

When the room fell silent, Dean realized he was alone at a college party, drunk in a bathtub and with his cock out. Perhaps it was time to review some of his life choices, especially those that had led him to that particular moment.

And yet, he couldn’t help thinking...he wouldn’t have changed anything of that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos. I’m a bit late at updating, but here I am with a new chapter. From now on, especially in the next chapters, the story will be more centered on Cas/Dean relationship. There will be also Cas’ point of view. Again, sorry for my English :)) Enjoy!

  
Alcohol is like a two-sided coin, one smiles at you and one tells you that you are fucked, and not in a sexy way. You see the other side of the coin the next morning when you wake up with a mouth drier than the Sahara Desert, a headache, an upset stomach, and the memories of all the shit you did the night before. And that's how Dean found himself the next day of the party.

"Fuck." He got up slowly, rubbing his eyes. "That's why I’d stopped drinking.”

_Motherfucker_   
_The name made even more sense the next day_

"Oh, finally. You’re awake. How you doin’?" Benny walked into the room with a look of sympathy on his face. He put a glass of water and aspirin on the nightstand.

"My hero.” Dean didn't waste any time swallowing it down.

"Nah. A good part of the blame’s on me if you’re lookin’ like that. You did say you could hold your liquor, though.”

 _Ah yes, there was that too_  
"Benny, I say a lot of things, ten percent truth, and ninety percent bullshit. Spoiler, but not too much at this point, me not being a lightweight doesn't fit into the 10 percent. Please next time doubt what I'm saying."

Benny chuckled and patted him on the shoulder. "I repaid my error dragging your drunk ass home. You're not silent when you’re drunk, by the way."

_"You're not silent when you’re drunk..."_

_"Are you drunk, squirrel?”_

_Holy shit_

Suddenly it was like being back in that bathroom, Castiel's rough, lust-filled voice urging him on, the sounds of pleasure coming out of his mouth, his fingers clenched desperately at his phone...  
 _Good night Dean_

"Dean, Dean!"

"Huh?"

“Are you sure everything's okay? You don't have to throw up, do ya? You're a little green in the face.” Benny looked at him with a worried expression and seemed ready to haul him into the bathroom if necessary.

“Yes, Benny. Maybe...you’re right, I'd better go.” He said so and locked himself inside the bathroom, leaning his sweaty forehead against the closed door.

What had happened would make future encounters with Castiel even more awkward. Last night he’d made an idiot out of himself. How did he even think about it? Calling drunk at 2 a.m. Castiel Novak, the guy he’d slammed into and whose bike he’d ruined.

Yet, Dean felt himself quiver and his insides burn, thinking about what had happened the night before. It’d been a long time since he’d felt such strong emotions and they haven't even seen each other, not even touched yet. Dean couldn't imagine what it would be like to feel the warmth of those rough hands on his body and that gravel voice whispering the filthiest promises in his ear.

Dean _wanted_ _him_. Judging by what Castiel had said and done the other night, the feeling was mutual.‘You drive me crazy,’ he’d told him in a voice wrecked by desire.

Dean smiled. Maybe that was the worst hangover he'd ever had in years, and maybe the future encounters with Castiel would have been a little more embarrassing from now on, but Dean realized he’d have changed nothing about that night.

He couldn't wait to see Cas again.

~

Castiel was alone, listening to Metallica with his headphones. It was still early in the morning and he’d recently come back from Illinois. He hated that place. It forced him to face reality and it was getting harder and harder to pretend he didn't care about his life. It was getting harder and harder to look Gabriel in the eye.

At the thought of his stepbrother, he went to light a joint, then thought better of it. Ever since he'd given up drawing, his hands had been quivering to find something to do. Normally he’d have taken his notebook and covered it in sketches, but he hadn't done that in far too long now. He probably wouldn't even know how to hold a paintbrush, let alone go back to drawing.

“Hey, Clarance.”

“Meg.” In the end, he lit it up.

“That place really messes up your brain, doesn’t it?”

“Hm.” He said nothing more, he just threw out the smoke and watched it mingle with the morning humid air. He felt himself relaxing.

“How’s it going with Ken?”

Ken, that was a good nickname. Dean’s face was synonymous with perfection. His green eyes were large and emotional, his dark blond hair looked soft and Castiel wanted to run his fingers through it to find out, his jaw was sharp and his lips...Castiel would have wanted to draw the perfection that was Dean Winchester’s face over and over again until he’d have achieved a resemblance. He knew it would be impossible to paint him as he was.

Since seeing him for the first time that day in the library, Castiel hadn't been able to think of anyone else. He’d asked around. The green-eyed boy's name was Dean Winchester and he was a first-year engineering student.

He thought back to Meg's question and studied the lighter in his hand as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. He tried to hide it, but he didn't like talking about Dean to his "friends.”

“Oh, that good?” Meg stole the joint from his hands.  
Castiel looked at her in annoyance.

Meg laughed. “Oh don’t be like that. You were smiling, Clarance.”

“I wasn’t doing shit.”

“You can tell me.”

“I can, doesn’t mean I’ll do it,” he smirked at her.

Meg was unaffected as always. “Uh-uh. Clarance’s got a cruush.”

”Why are you like this?” He asked exasperated.

Meg shrugged and played with the still burning joint in her fingers. She then cleared her voice. “You know Clarance, I haven’t seen you smile for someone like that in...well, ever.”

Meg stared at him quietly like she did every time he had that far-out look in his eyes.  
He bit his tongue so he wouldn’t tell her to fuck off.

“Bullshit. Let’s go,” he said so and walked away, not turning to check if the girl was following him.

He hated that Meg was right. That phone call made his desire for Dean even greater. He never expected the boy to actually call him, especially not on Halloween night and not being that drunk. Dean had managed to surprise him. Castiel hated things he couldn’t control and apparently, his desire for the freckled, green-eyed boy was one of them. So, that same day, when Castiel met Dean’s gaze during lunch break, he acted as nothing had happened. No winks, no mischievous smiles, no condescending gestures. Nothing.

For a moment, he saw Dean’s face darken. He was beautiful even like that, but he preferred him  
smiling.  
 _God, listen to yourself_

Before he could get any strange idea into his head, he quickly darted away, reaching Crowley, Meg and Bart.

Dean Winchester was the fuck of the week, that’s all. Castiel shouldn’t give a flying fuck whether the boy smiled at him or not.  
He said that to himself, but for the rest of the day, all he could think about were those dull green eyes and pursed lips.  
He didn’t think there was anything more wrong.

~

Dean had imagined the meeting with Castiel going several ways, none of them however came remotely close to how it actually went.

Classes were over for the moment, the cafeteria was full and the day was sunny. So he’d suggested to Charlie to eat outside.  
He hadn't suggested it because he'd noticed that Castiel and his friends preferred to spend time outside college and he hoped to meet him.  
 _Nuh-uh_

Charlie could spot his bullshit from a mile away but she was too kind to expose him like that.  
So she played along and accompanied him outside.  
While eating, Charlie started talking animatedly about Friday's party and Dean felt his stomach twitching. Last Friday a lot of things had happened... he tried not to show his internal trouble and be enthusiastic for Charlie and her possibly new girlfriend Dorothy, the fairy girl. Dean didn’t even know how her face looked like since Charlie had made out with her all night. Not that he had stayed to know the details, he’d had his things to do, like emptying the contents of his stomach and having an exciting phone call with Castiel Novak in a bathtub.

Right when he was thinking about him, the boy came out of the college entrance, as if he'd heard him calling his name.  
Castiel set eyes upon him and Dean's heart skipped a beat.  
His face didn't have time to catch fire thinking back to Friday night, that Castiel's eyes turned cold.  
He looked away a second later and disappeared between the garden walls.

"You okay, Dean?" Charlie looked at him worriedly.

_No_

“Yes Charlie, everything’s great.” He hoped his smile was convincing. From the redhead's face, it didn’t seem like it.

~

Castiel ignored him for the rest of the week.  
Now, Dean thought of himself as a good person, in third grade, he’d risked his own life to save a frog's, call him Jesus Christ, but like all things, his patience had an end.  
That’s why on a Thursday night, after a training session with Benny he swore to his poor heart he would never make the mistake to do again, he stood with his phone in hand and Castiel's number already typed on the screen.

What could he possibly tell him if he decided to call?  
 _Sorry, but the fuck of the week is pissed off?_  
 _I thought that after a 2:00 a.m. phone call spent at masturbating, we’d reached certain complicity?_

_Fuck_

Dean ran a hand through his hair. This time there wasn’t that fucking drink to help him find the courage. He was alone and sober and Dean Winchester didn’t do stupid shit without the influence of alcohol. Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely true. Still.

He thought of the cold glance Castiel had sent his way and felt the phone slip out of his grip. He didn’t dare to call him, not after the way the boy had looked at him.  
Discouraged, he threw himself into the bed only to get up the next second to answer his phone, which, ironically, had started to ring.

“What??”  
There was silence on the other end of the line, then the sound of a voice Dean knew all too well.  
“Is this a bad time for you, green eyes?”

Dean took a deep breath. The air in the room suddenly wasn’t enough.

“Oh, look who’s back.”  
Because Dean was a good person, but he could behave like a 10-year-old brat, and Castiel deserved the cold shoulder for treating him like shit all week.

“Tsk. Don’t be a smartass. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Oh, but It goes well for you. It’s a good thing you can’t help being an asshole, isn’t It?”  
He heard a loud noise. His heartbeat quickened. Maybe he‘d risked too much.  
Then he heard the sound of chewing gum in the background or was it candy?

“Are you eating candy?”

“Hmm.”

Dean had enough. “Listen here, you ugly son of a-“

“-How’s your head?”

“What?”

“Your head,” he repeated, slowly, as if talking to a child.  
Yet there was something about that arrogant and casual tone that made Dean lose his mind.

"You sounded pretty bad on Friday.”

“Points of view.”  
At that, he heard Castiel chuckled.  
He tried not to smile at the thought.

“Anyway, I’m pretty sure five days are enough to sober up.”

"Hm, Wilde managed to stay hungover for seven consecutive days, I thought I'd ask, just in case.”  
 _Wilde? Who the fuck still mentions Wilde in a conversation?_  
 _Oh, right, second year, literature._

"You're making it up.”

“Maybe.”

Dean opened his mouth as if to say something, then thought better of it and he closed it again.  
He sighed.  
“Why did you call?”  
Still silence.

“Cas?”

“I love how you say my name, especially when you’re near and about to come.”

Dean closed his eyes and audibly swallowed.  
“Yeah?”  
He tried to use an ironic voice, but what actually came out was a question full of desire. He was falling for it once again.

“Yes, and I haven’t even touched you yet. Have you ever thought about that, Dean? Really thought about it? What it would be like to have my hands touching you everywhere, roaming every inch of your naked body.”

Dean was starting to have trouble breathing. His face burned at Castiel’s sultry voice, at his words full of promises. He could almost feel the mark of those rough and large hands on his skin, taking what they wanted from him and his body.

“I think that with you, baby boy, I’d take my time.”

“Oh, don’t you say.” He let out a breathy chuckle.  
Dean could feel his own hands shaking.  
“And what’d you do to me? Let’s hear.”

“First of all, I’d shut your smart mouth, you’re much more arousing when you aren’t talking.”

“Oh, fuck you-“

“-I’d restrain your hands so that you couldn’t do a thing but watch quietly my head disappear between your legs.”

Dean realized he couldn’t pretend any longer he wasn’t interested in whatever direction this was taking. He didn’t say anything anymore and just listened to the sound of that voice. His hands already in his pants.

“I’d work you slowly, to rip off one sound at a time, first one finger and then, then the other.”

Dean moaned at the feeling of the rough touch of his hands on the sensitive skin, at the meaning of Cas’ words, and at the imagines they were planting inside his head.

Castiel seemed encouraged by the sounds Dean was making and If possible, his voice became an octave lower.  
"Then I would devour that pussy of yours with my tongue. I would eat you out for hours, bet you taste divine, sweetheart."

“Oh, Fuck!”  
Dean circled the head with his fingers, picking up the drops of precome with his thumb, and pinched a nipple till it hurt.

“Don’t stop, Dean.”  
Cas’ voice trembled.  
“Then, when you’d reduced to incoherent pleases and begging for my cock, I’d finally give it to you.”

“C-as.”

“Keep you in bed until you’d come with the feeling of my dick hitting that sweet spot inside of you...again and again.”

He imagined Castiel’s beautiful face above him, those feline eyes, the voracious smile. He imagined Cas using him shamelessly and conquer him all.  
It took Dean one last drag of his hand along his cock to make his vision darkened.  
He came with Castiel’s name on his lips.

Cas came shortly after, cursing and calling his name.  
“Deaan!”

For a while, they stood silent and breathless.

“Now you’ll go back to being an asshole?”

The sound of a lighter in the oppressive silence of the room.  
“No.”

Dean didn’t know whether to believe him or not. “Good.”

“Good-"

“-Goodnight Cas”  
This time he hung up first.

  
  


~

  
  


Apparently, Castiel really meant what he’d said.  
He stopped ignoring him. Every time Dean met his gaze, the boy would smile smugly at him, raise an eyebrow or look at him so intensely that Dean was afraid to get an erection amid hundreds of college students. Given the experiences he had with Castiel, he had the right to be worried about the possibility.

Castiel also started calling him in the evenings and soon they got into the habit of talking on their phones.  
Maybe talking wasn’t exactly the term...The third time he called, with three fingers buried deep in his ass and Castiel's voice urging him on, Dean managed to cum in less than three minutes.  
Yet, the mere sound of Cas’ voice was starting to not be enough anymore.  
Dean wished he could feel Castiel's skin under his, push him to orgasm with his own hands, finally know the taste of those lips.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one having those thoughts, because days later, during classes, the screen of his phone lit up with a message.

_Library. North Wing. Five minutes._

Now, Dean was no longer the type to drop out of classes. In fact, over time he’d matured enough to realize how counterproductive it was.  
He’d also become mature enough to be able to make the right decisions. That’s what he repeated to himself when two minutes later he dropped out of class and rushed to the library.

Dean found him there, with his legs crossed and his back leaning against the high wooden shelves. He was wearing his typical tattered black jacket. A green Metallica shirt underneath.  
The black hair looked more tousled than usual and Dean felt the urge to put his fingers through it to try and fix it. He probably couldn’t. Better, he preferred them that way.

He smiled. He wasn't used to seeing Castiel like that. His face was relaxed, bent over a book. He was biting his plump lip in concentration while marking the page with his full inked fingers.  
On the wrist, Dean glimpsed the tattoo of an angel, but before he could investigate, Castiel closed the book between his fingers. He looked up at him and Dean's words failed him.  
He was so beautiful, there, under the shadows of the shelves, with a book clutched in his hand and a look in which Dean could get lost again and again.

Castiel put the book aside and straightened his back.  
He wouldn’t stop looking at him even for a second. Those blue eyes were trained on him and were burning with uncontrollable desire. No one had ever looked at him like that.

Castiel was on him in a moment, and Dean tried not to be overwhelmed by the intoxicating scent, the deep blue of those eyes, the power of his presence.

Dean tilted his head to feel the warm breath tingling his lips, and closed his eyes.  
When he opened them again, he saw Castiel’s gaze fixed on him, his lips parted and waiting.  
Neither of them said anything while the air seemed to catch fire.  
Then, finally, Cas grabbed the short hair at the base of his neck and crushed their mouths together.

The kiss was violent, exchanged with teeth and tongue.  
Cas’ lips were soft under his and tasted like fresh mint. His tongue was demanding while exploring eagerly every corner of his mouth.  
Dean kissed him again and again because once he finally got the taste of him, he couldn’t get enough.

He brought his hands to grip tightly Cas’ hips, digging his fingers into the skin. Feeling his touch, the other boy suddenly pulled away and Dean used the opportunity to catch his breath.  
It didn’t last long because Castiel zeroed his eyes on him and dove in for another taste, reclaiming his mouth even more forcefully than he had before.

Cas held his face with one hand, while the other wrapped tightly around his waist. He pushed Dean towards the shelves until he felt his back hitting the wood.

"Fuck, Cas!" But Castiel didn't care. He kissed him even more fiercely and his hands were suddenly everywhere. To feel the skin under his shirt, on his ass, on his chest.  
Dean tightened his hands around Cas’ hair, who in the meantime had started exploring the skin of his neck and collarbone with his tongue.

Dean felt himself being consumed, sinking into the desire and warmth that was Castiel's body. His rough hands, his long and strong fingers were like flames that danced on his skin, leaving indelible trails behind and Dean felt himself ruined, ruined for anyone but him.

"C-as, ah!” He cried out as the boy squeezed one nipple in a particularly strong grip.

"Hmm, these are sensitive.”

He threw his head back in pleasure and closed his eyes. Castiel took the opportunity to mark his neck.

"C-as, please.”  
He didn't even know what he was begging for. All he knew was that Castiel's hands and mouth on his skin were too much and yet not enough.

Cas pulled his tongue from Dean’s neck, made a strained sound, and looked up at him.  
The blue of his eyes had faded around the black of the pupil and his lips were red and swollen from the kisses. Dean had never seen anything more beautiful and to know that he was the one reducing him like that, to the edge of despair, made his heartbeat even faster.

“Dean,” the voice firm and pleading at the same time.  
 _One word and you’ll be mine_ , he seemed to say.

“Yes.”

Castiel widened his eyes and was about to jump on him, ruining him completely, but then there was the sound of a door swinging open and the buzz of people entering.  
They both broke apart as if burned.

Dean was out of breath, his shirt was raised, his hair messy, his face red, and his pants tent. Castiel was in no better condition. Dean smirked triumphantly at him. Cas smiled and tried to hide it by shaking his head.

Dean fixed his shirt and tried to put himself together as best he could.  
He heard Castiel coming close to him and the smell of mint intoxicated him one more time. He looked up at him, the bastard had been able to compose himself in less than a minute.  
Dean’s attempts had been less successful.

“You think you’re funny, green eyes”

“Oh, I think I’m adorable. What I find funny is you looking like you needed an inhaler.”

Castiel chuckled.  
Surely, the husky sound of that laughter wasn’t helping him keep things under control down there. Dean realized after all that the hot moment they shared a few minutes ago was over. His dick was still grasping the concept.

Castiel pulled away. His full lips almost touching his own.  
“Irritating.”

"My best quality.”

"Hm.” Cas brushed his fingers across his neck and followed fascinated the movement. Dean swallowed thickly, the sound of people coming in grew louder.

"Perhaps, before you open that big mouth of yours, you should make sure of your situation," and with that, he took the same book he was reading earlier, examined it with an interesting look, cast Dean a satisfied expression, and casually walked away, as if nothing had happened.

_Asshole_

Dean's muscles relaxed and he leaned back exhausted against the shelves, the books pointing annoyingly at his back.

He took out his cell phone and opened the camera.

There was a big ass hickey on his neck and now Castiel’s so annoyingly satisfied smile made much more sense.

"Son of a bitch!"

~

Castiel walked quickly among the library shelves, Hemingway's book clutched tightly in his hands.  
 _‘The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places.’_  
It was one of his favorite quotes.

In the beginning, literature had been a consolation for him, a remedy for him and his broken pieces. Then it became something more. Something to always look for, in pain and joy.  
And then, then there was Dean...with Dean, it was like kissing and being kissed for the first time.  
Castiel has built a reputation on campus, thanks to all his conquests, and his fame wasn’t for nothing. After all, he had slept with half the students, men and women alike. Castiel had kissed a lot of people in his life, buried himself in the heat of countless bodies, but no one seemed like Dean’s.

He didn’t know what he’d have done if the library hadn’t started filling with people. He’d probably have taken Dean right there against those shelves, making him scream with pleasure and pain to the point of losing his voice.

He quickly walked out of the library. He was already outside when his phone started to ring. It was Gabriel and apparently, it wasn’t even the first time he’d tried to reach him.  
Castiel ignored the call. Then, when his phone finally stopped ringing, he listened to the message Gabriel had left him.

“Heyo, Cassie.” Gabriel chuckled but the sound was wrong, lacking the typical lightness of his laughter.  
“It’s me...I know that back in Illinois...the discussion we had...It wasn’t a good time between brothers,” he chuckled. His laughter sounding wrong, again.  
“But I need to talk to you, to apologize, I don’t know. I don’t want things to stay the way they are. Call me. Please.”

Castiel sighed thinking about the disaster that had happened in Illinois. Gabriel had freaked out and Castiel had found an opportunity to vent all his frustration. He’d stood up to him and they had been about to throw things at each other.

It was always like that between the two of them and Castiel was tired. He was tired of constantly fighting, he wished he could go back to...he squeezed his phone until it hurt. _He couldn’t._ Avoiding talking to Gabriel was his only alternative. He loosened his grip on his phone, not wanting to break that too. He didn’t know if he could afford a new one and he’d never use the money of Gabriel’s parents for such nonsense.

Classes weren’t over yet, but Castiel didn’t care. He got on his bike and sprinted towards the harbour. The view of the ocean would have calmed him like it always had.

~

Dean kept telling himself that walking around with a purple patch on half of his neck and being on the receiving end of people’s worried gaze was worth it. That because a) Benny’s face when he came home that day was priceless b) every time he looked in the mirror, it was like being there again, trapped between the heat of Castiel’s body and the shelves library.

Obviously, the next day, he was forced to always keep a scarf around his neck.  
Charlie frowned, upon seeing him.  
“Are you strictly into dicks now?”

“What!? No! Why would you say something like that for a scarf? I made you more progressive than that.”

Charlie could not contain the laughter upon hearing the indignant tone of his voice. “Calm down, bitch, I was just having my fun. Seriously though, why are you wearing a scarf now? I thought you hated them?”

Saying he sucked at lying was an understatement, but Dean still gave it a try and told her he had a cold.  
Charlie curled her lips and looked down, an unmistakable sign that his attempt had not been enough. Fortunately, like the wonderful friend she was, Charlie played along and Dean, to at least keep up appearances, would let out a few coughs now and then.

Two days passed and Cas didn’t show up at college, neither called him on the phone.  
Then, on the third day, he saw him again, in the university courtyard, walking the hallways, at the cafeteria. Whenever Dean met his gaze, Castiel would grin mischievously at him, wink, or cast seductive glances that set his face on fire in less than two seconds.  
Not to mention the laugh the boy let out when he first noticed the scarf around Dean’s neck.  
 _Fuck him and his perfect smile_

In the afternoon, Dean sat in the library, waiting for Charlie to come.  
Cas was a few tables ahead surrounded by his three friends and other people from campus. Everyone seemed to be hanging on his every word as if being under his spell. Dean didn't wonder why especially not with the vision Castiel was making at that moment. Feet crossed over the table in an arrogant attitude, a blue sweater that matched the color of his eyes and left the muscles of his tattooed forearms exposed, and a cocky grin on his face. A smile that grew only wider as soon as he recognized him.

A blonde girl laughed at something Cas had said and put her hand on his chest. Dean rolled his eyes. He thought it was illegal for someone to be so desperate. Apparently, he and Hanna Montana over there didn’t think the same.

Castiel seemed to notice because he smiled even more. Dean nodded at him.  
The fact that the boy’s gaze was only on him, despite all those people around fighting for his attention, gave Dean hope. Hope that between him and Cas it could be more than five-minute phone calls and occasional rushed encounters. But then, Castiel’s expression changed, his smile vanished completely and his eyes turned cold. A haunted look on his face, while staring at a spot behind Dean.

He turned and saw Charlie entering the library and coming towards him.  
 _“We were friends’’_  
Oh right, they knew each other.

“Hey, Winchester.” Charlie smiled at him at the same time catcalls rose from across the room.

Dean turned to investigate and found the source right away. The blonde girl was sitting on Cas’ lap and the boy was enthusiastically groping her ass and devouring her mouth.  
When Castiel pulled away from her, he looked at him for a moment, his face unmoved, his eyes emotionless, as if made of stone. 

Dean didn’t resist. He smiled faintly at Charlie and told her he was going to the bathroom. The girl seemed to understand.“I’ll wait here, Dean. Then we could leave...”

The whistles had stopped, but Dean didn’t care. He went to the bathroom anyway and took off the scarf to study in the mirror the mark Castiel had left him.

He remembered the feeling of those soft lips, of those strong hands grabbing his hair and squeezing his waist. He also remembered Castiel’s absorbed expression while reading quietly in the corner of the library, the sound of his laughter, the words of reverence he’d whispered in his ear.

 _“Nobody stays,”_ Charlie had told him.

But Dean would have stayed, at least for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t know if anyone would be interested, buuut here are a few songs I listened to while writing:  
> \- Why’d you only call me when you’re high  
> -Arctic Monkeys  
> \- Crybaby -nghb  
> \- Often - The Weeknd (remix)  
> \- Mistery of Love ( call me by your name)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, hope you had a nice weekend!! I’m a little late at updating, again :’)  
> In my defense, it was a really tough chapter to traduce and I had to make some adjustments, but it was worth the effort.  
> Also, there’ll be some smut ehehe 
> 
> Hope there aren’t too many errors. Let me know what u think guys, enjoy!

"I told you, Dean. Castiel doesn't bond with anyone. Stop seeing him, I don't want to see you get hurt.”  
Charlie said these words to him as soon as they left college. He’d never seen her so worried before. It was obvious that she was hiding something from him. Dean wanted to ask what had happened between her and Castiel but, seeing her so crestfallen, he let it go.

Dean called Sam the next day. He missed his brother, but seeing him smiling at the screen was enough to make the homesickness go away for a while.

Sam was sixteen and already knew who he wanted to be in life. He would be studying law at Standford and Dean wouldn't be the only Winchester who could claim to live in California.  
Sam said it with so much satisfaction that Dean smiled.

"Dream and hope Sammy,” he decided to tease him a little. Even though he knew Sam would make a brilliant lawyer one day. The kid was a genius and Dean was damn proud of him.

Sam was ready to argue, but he closed his mouth as soon as he opened it, his eyes fixed on a spot on the screen. He was making a reproachful expression, with a furrowed brow and lips pursed in a thin line.

“Uhm, Dean...”

“What, Sasquatch??”

“Are you really walking around with that thing on your neck?” He finished the question with a disgusted smile.

Dean hastily covered his neck and maybe he miscalibrated the force in the process because it hurt like a bitch. “Son of a-"

“-Sam, leave your brother alone.” His father had appeared on the computer screen.

Things were getting from bad to worse and Dean didn’t dare take his hand off his neck. Sam would throw him amused looks. “Shut your mouth,” Dean mouthed when John got distracted for a moment.

It was amazing how things in his family had changed in the last two years. There was a time when they couldn’t have spent carefree moments like this, laughing and joking together.  
Dean noticed John was in great shape. Every time he saw him, his father looked more and more like the man he once was, the man who still had the love of his life beside him.

The job at Bobby’s garage was going well. John said he’d be able to save money for Sam and the college of his dreams.

“But this is thanks to you, Dean,” John reminded him with a grateful smile and a sad look.

His father ruffled Sam’s hair and walked away telling his brother to end the call and let him study.  
Dean felt his heart squeezed at that scene. It was what he’d always wanted for their family.

“So, that giant thing on your neck-"

“-And what about Jessica, Sam?”  
 _Great recovery Dean_

“Sam, who’s Jessica?”  
He heard his father’s voice in the background and saw Sam’s face turning red.  
“Nobody!” He closed the call.  
Dean chuckled.

He looked out the window. It was already November, but the sky was still blue and the sun was shining. Dean wanted to see the ocean. He hadn’t had the chance yet...maybe he’d ask Benny...  
No, he’d better not. The boy had officially entered the exam period.

Charlie was busy, and Dean didn’t know anyone else except...  
He suddenly came up with an idea, a foolish idea.

Charlie would’ve certainly killed him.

  
  


~

  
  


“Freckles.”

“Your nicknames are gettin’ worse.”

“I do my best, but the subject is what it is.”

Dean rolled his eyes and made a face repeating Cas’ words under his breath as if he’d not grown at all since the last time he was ten.

“Why did you call Dean? I’m not in the mood for one of our...sessions.”

Dean bit his tongue so he wouldn’t tell him to fuck off. Maybe calling Castiel had been a mistake.

“Don’t worry, nothing like that.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. Dean used it to pick up the courage.  
“Cas...I was thinking-"

“-Oh, you think.”

_Dick_

“Oh, it’s one of my gifts, another is being able to put up with you without punching your pretty face.”

“Pretty?”

 _Stupid Dean_  
“I-“

Cas chuckled.  
“Anyway, the feeling is mutual. Problem is, we always end up doing something else.”

 _He’s got a point._  
 _Make love, not war_ , or _something like that._ _Dean was certainly doing his part in the struggle for peace_

"It's the charm of us Winchesters, don't take it personally.”  
He smiled when he thought he heard Cas laughing.

He remembered why he’d called.  
"Cas I...uhm, are you busy?"

“Depends on what you offer.”

"Take me to see the ocean.”  
Well, the half-hour spent coming up with something to say had officially gone to shit.  
"Oh God.”

Castiel made an amused sound.  
“It’s okay Dean, take your time.”

Dean blushed. He cleared his throat loudly and this time Castiel had definitely laughed.

"Alright, asshole. I was gonna ask if you want to go to the fuckin’ seaside with me because I don't know anyone else who’d take me there.”  
He managed to say the whole thing in less than three seconds. _Eminem? And who would that be?_

“Do you want a date, green eyes? You should work on expressing yourself, less fuck and asshole. Try with...darling.”  
That word spoken by Castiel's voice should be illegal.

"Uh-uh, it's not me who talked about dating, Cas. Maybe you're the one who’s desperate.”

Dean was full of bullshit and he knew it, just the word date associated with Castiel was enough to make him happier than a five-year-old on Christmas Day.

An awkward silence followed.

_Fuck_

Dean remembered how he and Castiel were only two strangers. Maybe the boy didn't even want to spend time with him, he'd moved on if the session with that blonde in the library meant anything.

“This was a mistake, sorry, I shouldn’t have-"

"-Okay.”

"O-okay?”

He heard Cas sigh.  
“I’ll go with you.”

“Oh...you-“

"-Don't give me time to change my mind, Dean.”

"Yeah, right...uhm-"

"-I'll be waiting for you at college in half an hour. On-time or I go away.” And with that, he hung up.

To think they called Dean a drama queen.

~

He found himself in the university parking lot five minutes early. He was particularly proud of himself. He’d showered in a few minutes, had changed, perhaps taking longer than expected to figure out which sweater to wear, and had arrived more than on time (perhaps not respecting some speed limit.)

There, in the quietness of his car, he turned up the volume of the music.  
The Beatles played in the background. “Hey Jude” would have calmed him down. A few seconds and he relaxed completely on the seat, he closed his eyes and without realizing it, started to sing softly.

For a moment, he saw his mother’s face or what he remembered of it. The blonde hair and gentle smile. Sometimes he missed her terribly.

Something slammed hard against the window and Dean nearly had a heart attack. Had he been thirty years older he’d surely be dead.

"God, Cas, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

Castiel looked at him from the other side of the glass. A worried look on his face.  
It dissolved into one of his cocky smiles as soon as Dean rolled down the window.

"Lucky me I parked after you, the left side of my bike is saved.”

If looks could kill, Castiel would have died a hundred different ways.  
"Careful, Cas, you could get certain ideas in my head, like finishing the work I started on your bike.”

Castiel got serious. He crossed his arms over his chest, rested his elbows on the car, and raised an eyebrow.  
"Oh? It'd be fun to see you try”.  
To Dean's cock it sounded fun too.

Dean cleared his throat and drove away those dangerous thoughts. “She’s a nice car, isn’t she?” He asked trying to change the subject.

“She?”

Dean shrugged.

“She is, as you say, a nice car...too bad we use my bike.”

“Don’t think so. I’d like to get to the ocean in one piece, man.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The tone sharp.

“Whoa, easy tiger, nothing. It’s just...it’s freezing and my car—“ he gestured pointing to the evidence, “—is not open to the cold air.”

Cas snorted loudly and rolled his eyes as if Dean was the one being dramatic.  
He got into the car anyway and Dean started the engine.

“So, are we going to the seaside?” He asked without taking his eyes off the road.

Castiel smiled amused, his gaze searching for every detail of the car. He passed his fingers on the dashboard feigning an interested look. “Isn’t that why I’m here?” He set those piercing blue eyes on him. “To take you to see the ocean?”

Dean cleared his throat.  
“Well, yes...”

“So drive to the ocean.”

“Uhm...”

He continued to drive. The silence was oppressive, so he said the first thing that came to mind.  
“So what, I'm Thelma, you're Louise and we're just gonna hold hands and sail off this cliff together?”

Silence, again. Cas tilted his head to the side, a gesture Dean had become used to.

“I don’t understand that reference.”

Dean snorted. “No, of course you don’t.”

They continued to travel in silence as Dean started to get anxious.

“Hmm.”

“What?”

Cas was touching the leather of the seats, following the movement with his eyes.  
 _Dean wanted to be a seat. Is that normal? Probably not._

“The seats are soft.”

“Uhm...yes?...And?”

Castiel turned around to study the backseat. Dean saw out of the corner of his eye the boy smirking.  
“It’s spacious...we should fuck in there.”

Dean choked on air and almost went through the red light. Castiel laughed throwing his head back.

“I thought we were past the stage where you die of embarrassment at anything I say, baby boy,” he said leaning towards him and Dean squeezed the steering wheel harder.

“It’s not easy with you.”

“Hmm,” he pulled back and stared out the window.

Dean thanked God for that little break. Being in an enclosed space with Castiel was killing him and the car was already impregnated with the smell of mint and leather. Dean wondered what shampoo Cas used. Maybe he’d make a few donations to the brand.

Castiel started rummaging through the car.

“Castiel, what are you doing?”

“Shh.”

“Cas, seriously, don’t touch anything-"

“-Relax, freckles.” He shook a tape next to Dean’s face. “Just a bit of music to ease your nerves,” he said, studying the tape in his hands and the written titles of the songs.

“Wow, this is a really old system.”

“I like it that way.” Dean could feel his sweaty hands slipping on the steering wheel.

Cas made a satisfied sound and simply pushed the tape into the radio.  
Led Zeppelin started playing, Cas gave him a wide smile and Dean felt himself at home.

“Not bad as a playlist, green eyes.”

_“Whole Lotta Love”_ played for the rest of the journey.

~

They parked the car very close to the beach. Cas assured him it was legal, Dean still doubted it.

The sun was fading away and the sky was clouding, engulfing the blue. Dean was sulking.

“What did you say? Oh yeah. It’s the perfect day for a walk on the beach, isn’t it, freckles?”

“Shut up.”

His mood changed as soon as he took notice of Cas’ face. His sapphire eyes seemed lost gazing at the ocean, his hair was slightly blown by the wind, his jaw was relaxed and his lips parted.  
He was still wearing his usual leather jacket, a white sweatshirt underneath.  
Apparently, Dean was cold for the both of them in his sweater and a winter jacket bigger than himself.

Cas turned to him and smiled. It was like seeing him do it for the first time. His face was relaxed and his eyes seemed to sparkle.

"Well?”  
He looked at the ocean and spread his arms wide with an almost childlike manner. “What do you think about it?"

Dean would have liked to say something in the line of "nothing special compared to you," but it would have been too cheesy even for him. So he remained silent. He studied the vast blue of the ocean, watched its giant waves throw themselves ashore, and retreat in a continuous cycle. It was fiery, tireless, wild.  
He smiled. It reminded him of someone.

"It's nice.”

"Hm.” Castiel had his hands in his pockets.

Without realizing it, Dean started humming Metallica under his breath.

"Are you humming Metallica?"

"Oh yeah...I don't even notice it anymore...sometimes I just do it, I don't know, they relax me.”  
Dean didn't take his eyes off the ocean.

Cas laughed softly. “I don’t think many see it the way you do.”

“And you?”

“What?”

“What calms you down.”

Castiel went back to stare at the ocean. He nodded towards it.  
“He never let me down.”

Dean looked at him with the hint of a smile.

The two started walking along the shore and Cas told him that when he was younger he’d swum so far, the lifeguards had to chase him with the boat. He’d been grounded for two weeks.  
Dean laughed at that story and told him something about himself. About how he’d never seen the ocean and had always lived in the small town of Lawrence.

"And you? Have you always been here?"

At his question, Cas stopped smiling.  
"No...uhm, I stayed here in Berkeley only for a few years...then my adoptive family sold the house and moved to Illinois.”

They continued to walk along the beach as the sky darkened and became covered with more grey clouds.

“Dean.”

"Yeah?"

"Maybe I shouldn’t have come today.”

Dean got a lump in his throat. He continued walking, looking down at the ground to avoid Castiel's gaze.

"Is that a nice way to tell me I’m boring?" He’d always been the type to hide his insecurities behind a mask of sarcasm and jokes.

“Caas?”

Castiel had stopped and was looking at him. "No, but I don't like giving hope when there isn’t any.”  
His gaze grew distant and to Dean, it seemed he was referring to something else entirely.

"You're not giving me any hope.”  
He was surprised at the ease he managed to lie.

"We-" Cas gestured pointing a finger first at Dean and then at himself. “-We're not in a relationship and this isn't a date.”

"Clear.” Dean smiled weakly at him.

Castiel looked at him, his gaze piercing, as if to read his soul. “And that’s okay with you?”

Dean sighed. "What do you want me to say, Cas? I kind of like you and I don't know, even just being together like this...it’s enough for me.”

Castiel seemed surprised. "Okay.” He began to quickly walk away, leaving Dean behind.

“Hey! What’s the speed for??”

“You’re slow!”

“Slow, my ass. We’re not at the Olympics, Cas slow down!”

Castiel laughed and sped up even more.  
Being the mature man he was, Dean yelled at him. “Fuck you!”

Cas suddenly turned back and headed towards him, as fast as a rocket.

“Oh fuck.” Dean was about to run, but the boy had already wrapped his longs arms around his waist.  
Cas’ chest was solid against his back and Dean could feel the warm breath tickling his neck.

“Fuck you, huh?”

Dean chuckled.

“Maybe later,” Cas whispered seductively in his ear.

Dean’s eyes widened, his heart pounding.  
“Is that a promise, Cas?”

“Hm.” The boy pulled away from him and Dean was able to breathe again.

Fortunately, the tense moment they had minutes ago was gone and Dean felt lighthearted again. He forgot about their discussion and only thought about how good he was feeling to spend time with Cas.

Castiel started rummaging in his pockets.

“What are you-“

He pulled out a rolled joint and lit it. Dean made sure to look at him disapprovingly. Seeing his face, the boy simply smiled. "Relax, there's practically nothing in it.”

Castiel inhaled greedily and threw the thick smoke upward, exposing his throat to the sunlight, skin Dean wished he could kiss. He swallowed, feeling his throat suddenly dry.

"Do you want it?"

Dean shrugged. He took the joint and went to bring it to his mouth, Cas’ gaze following the movement.  
Dean threw the weed into the water at the last second. He was about to laugh seeing Castiel's incredulous look.

"You’re insufferable.”

Dean smirked at him.

“Tsk, stop smiling. You owe me five dollars, green eyes.”

"I just saved you a pair of neurons, appreciate the effort, Cas.”

Castiel clenched his jaw and fixed Dean with a threatening look that nearly made him cream his pants.  
He blushed. Cas shook his head in resignation and went on without waiting for him.

"Hey!"

“Come on, I'll take you to a place.”

~

‘The place’ Cas wanted to show him was nothing Dean had imagined. Castiel, perpetually pissed off at the world, tall, dark, wearing a black leather jacket in November, tattoos and piercing, was making quite a scene in front of a small burger stand with a bunch of tiny lights on it.

"Dean, do you want something?" He asked him casually, his arm resting on the counter.

Dean felt his stomach growling just at the smell of what the cook was preparing. He was a lovely old man with rosy cheeks and a few extra pounds. He seemed to know Castiel.

Dean's smile faded, however, when he rummaged through his trouser pockets and found them empty. "Son of a-"

"-Language." Cas raised an eyebrow.  
 _That’s rich coming from him_

"Wallet's in the car.”

"Too bad...one fries, Henry.”

"Sure thing, kiddo. Your friend?"

Castiel looked at Dean. “He doesn't take anything.”

The two of them waited leaning against the counter as the air grew colder and the yellow lights danced driven by the wind. In the background, only the sound of the fryer and an old radio.  
They were the only ones waiting. It was November after all, Dean was surprised the stand was even open.

At one point, Bruno Mars' voice came on the radio. Dean thought he recognized the song and _oh,_

_Never had much faith in love or miracles, uh!_   
_Never wanna put my heart on the line, uh!_   
_But swimming in your water is something spiritual, uh!_

_'Cause you make me feel like_   
_I've been locked out of heaven_   
_For too lo-ong_

The warmth of Cas’ body by his side, the quiet ocean in front of him, the song playing in the background...everything felt as it should. Dean smiled at the thought, then found a bag of fries shoved in the face.

"Hey!!!"

"If you tell anyone about this I'll kill you.”

"Huh? What the hell is that supposed to mean-" Dean felt silent realizing that the fries the boy had ordered were for him.  
Cas stood at his side, his arm outstretched awkwardly, a slight blush covering his cheeks and a scowl on his face.

Overcoming his initial surprise, Dean turned towards him with a wide smile. He felt his cheeks flush slightly, like Cas', except he wasn't trying to hide it by turning his face away.

“Aww, thanks Cas," he said eating a fry.

"Shut up, your belly was growling, it was annoying.”

_Asshole_

Dean kissed him on the cheek to irritate him even more.  
Cas brought his hand up to touch the spot where he'd been kissed. He looked at him in disbelief and Dean doubled up with laughter.

Cas gave him a tug that nearly knocked him off his feet. "Fuck! The fries, Cas! Pay some mind, would ya?”

"You were falling on your ass and you're thinking about the fries?"

"Well...uhm...yes?"

Cas smiled at him shaking his head and kissed him suddenly, biting his bottom lip hard. Dean cursed.

The boy pulled away from him and rested his thumb over Dean’s swollen lip, watching it giving way softly under his finger. Then he wiped a spot of ketchup off the corner of Dean’s mouth and licked it from his thumb in an obscene way that was completely unnecessary.  
His cock thought otherwise.  
Dean had only pity for the man trying to do his job in the stand behind them. But Cas didn't seem to share his concern, for he suddenly invaded his space until warm breath tickled his ear.

"Uh, personal space?" Dean asked in a hushed voice, his eyes locked on Cas' lips, betraying him.

"Have you ever fucked a man, Dean?"

Dean choked on air and his face probably took on the best impression of a tomato.

Castiel pulled away from him, slowly, and began walking away.  
He went without looking back, not making sure Dean followed. Maybe because he knew he wouldn't have to, Dean was already two steps away from him.

~

“F-uck...ah!”

His grip on Castiel’s hair got stronger, thrusting his dick even deeper in the heat of that gorgeous mouth.

“Hmm.”  
The vibrations of Cas’s voice made him even more sensitive, pushing him near the edge.  
“Cas-Cas, stop, I’m going to-"

Castiel didn’t care, he increased his efforts instead, curling his tongue over the head and sucking even harder, hollowing his cheeks.  
Dean looked down and he was done for. Those blue eyes were pointed seductively at him, bright in the shadows of the car, the messy hair clenched in his finger, spit and pre-cum on the sides of swollen lips. The image of the boy in that condition was enough to make him come, hard, and Castiel swallowed every last drop as Dean's vision filled with black dots.

Cas pulled himself up on the seat and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he took off his sweatshirt, never taking his eyes off him.

Dean was still sprawled on the seat, his breathing heavy, his face red, his bare chest drenched in sweat. He widened his eyes as he saw Castiel's white skin gradually uncovering, muscles tensing in the effort of removing the sweatshirt. The pants followed and Dean could only stand by and watch.

Castiel owed nothing to the David of Michelangelo. Its physique was different and not comparable to the perfect symmetries of the statue, but in Dean’s eyes, it was beautiful in a way of its own, which made it equal to that masterpiece.  
Cas had broad shoulders, muscular arms, a small freckle near his left nipple, a flat stomach, where the signs of the abs barely showed. Below the left pec, at the heart level, were tattooed sentences in a language Dean didn't recognize. Symbols were scattered along the right ribs, drawings marked the skin of highlighted hip bones, and some others appeared in the inner thighs.  
He had the legs of a god. Dean wondered what it would be like to have those muscles wrapped around his head while Castiel thrust over and over into the heat of his mouth.  
He let out a shaky breath.

Cas smiled devilish and leaned forwards, his back arched, his movements those of a predator until his lips were inches from Dean’s. Then down to wet the skin of his neck, collarbones, and chest.  
He bit down hard on one nipple.

Dean looked up and said his name in a pleading voice again and again as if it were a prayer. Castiel's tongue passed over his stomach and dipped into the curve of his navel. He bit down on the tender hips and Dean let out a groan.

“P-please, Cas, please.”

Castiel pulled away to look at him. His eyes were wild, his muscles strained in the effort of holding the weight of his body over Dean’s.

“Fuck me.” His voice firm and desperate.

Castiel widened his eyes and kissed him even more fiercely. Dean could only succumb to him, as he’d done since the very start.

He heard the sound of a cap unscrewing and felt the slight pressure of a finger on its entrance.

His breath stopped and he looked at Castiel in alarm. In response, the other boy spread his legs gently, his fingers pressing on the skin of his inner thighs. Then he crawled between the opening of his legs and leaned his chest against him.

“Shh,” he touched his hair.  
It lasted only a moment, but it was enough to give him butterflies.

“Cas...I-I’ve never...not with a man, I-”

Cas’ gaze became more restless, the blue of his eyes engulfed by the black of the pupil. He looked like an animal ready to jump on him and never let him go.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said in a broken voice. “You’re perfect Dean,” he corrected himself.

Dean nodded at him, trying to relax and looking Cas right in the eye. He seemed like a different person. He looked at Dean as if his life depended on him, he looked at him with a sincere and immeasurable desire, a desire that seemed to consume him all.

Dean couldn’t take his eyes off him.

_“You’re perfect, Dean”_

He was about to kiss him, when Cas’s gaze became uncertain, almost frightened, and the boy jerked back, distancing himself from Dean’s body.

“I...Turn around.” His voice had turned authoritative, his muscles tense, his eyes devoid of any emotion.

“Why can’t I-”

“-Because I say so.” Castiel was adamant, his gaze detached, the warmth of his body distant.

Dean wondered for the first time what he was doing there.

Something on his face must have shown because suddenly Cas grabbed his chin.  
The grip was firm but when he met his gaze, Dean saw that his eyes had softened and showed a similar vulnerability to when he'd taken him to the stand by the sea not long ago. His hair, however, remained wild, his bare chest drenched in sweat. Dean had an urge to lick it off, savoring the boy's salty skin under his tongue.

Cas looked like he was about to say something, but Dean kissed him furiously. “All right.” He turned around.

Castiel's breath was immediately on his neck and the boy's chest molded to his back. “I said I’d take my time...” Dean swallowed and closed his eyes. “But I don’t think I can stand more foreplay right now, not with you lookin’ like this, ready under me.”

He stroked his back, from his shoulders to his ass, following the line of his spine.  
Beneath him, Dean was shaking.

“Yeah? Luckily you’re not the only one who’s impatient, Cas.”

“Hm, you still talk too much for my taste, sweetheart,” and with that, he spread his buttocks and sank a finger inside. Dean arched his back and Cas took the opportunity to play with his sensitive nipples. He then set an incessant rhythm and suddenly added a second finger, twisting it inside along the other. The burning sensation only served to fuel the desire.

Suddenly, Cas arched his fingers and Dean felt overwhelming pleasure running through his whole body. He screamed.

"The sounds you make Dean.”

At the third finger, Dean completely lost his mind and pushed his ass back trying to make those fingers reach even deeper. "Uh-uh," Castiel laughed softly at Dean’s desperate attempt and pinned his hips down.

_Fuck, that was hot_

"Stay," he whispered in his ear, his hand now caressing Dean’s arm.  
He removed his fingers and Dean had never felt so empty before. He let out a pleading sound. He heard Cas looking for something, probably condoms. Before he could think about what he was doing, he turned around, blocking Cas’ wrist.

Cas looked at him in surprise. “Have you changed your mind?”

“No...I-I want to feel you,” he looked at the condom in his hand and Cas seemed to understand.

“Are you sure?”

“It’d be the first time I do it, I’m clean.”

Castiel swallowed and Dean followed fascinated the movement.  
“I’ve done some checks. I’m clean too.”

“All right then.”

“Dean, you trust me like that-"

“-Do you wanna fuck me, Cas? Yes or no.”

Castiel’s expression changed quickly. He smiled with mischief and his eyes sparkled again.  
With one hand gripping his shoulder, he drove Dean to lie back on the seats.

“There’s no turning back Dean,” he whispered in his ear, like a demon sealing his deal.

“I-I know.”

Cas made an inhuman sound when suddenly the head of his dick passed the first ring of muscles.

When he was completely inside, Dean let out a shaky sigh.  
He felt full, complete. He was born for this moment, for Castiel’s sweaty torso touching his back, for the boy’s weight above him, for those lips biting his neck and tickling his ear.

“C-as...I-I need you to-"

Castiel went completely out, and Dean was about to complain when Cas buried himself again inside his body and set up a brutal pace, pounding mercilessly into him.

The car windows started to fog and their breaths got heavy, then Dean screamed. Cas had found his prostate.

“Jesus Christ.”

Cas grabbed his hair and forced his neck to bend backward. “That’s not my name.”  
He bit hard on his neck, almost breaking the skin.

“C-cast-iel.”

“Yes, Dean, say it.”

Dean sobbed, overwhelmed by pleasure. “Fuck,” Cas cursed after a particularly strong thrust. “You’re so good for me, baby, so good,” he whispered in his ear, sounding out of breath.

“Come for me now.”

Dean was about to move his hand over his cock and come for the second time that night, but Castiel pulled it away.

“No.”

Dean widened his eyes.  
Cas spread his legs even more and repeatedly hit his prostate. “On my cock or you don’t come at all.”

At those words, Dean did as Cas had asked. He came untouched, stronger than he’d ever had, whispering Castiel’s name between hiccups of pleasure.  
His orgasm never seemed to end.

Castiel kept pushing inside, his movements becoming desperate. “So tight nnggg.”  
He came, too, letting out a sound that almost made Dean come a third time.

Despite the annoying sensation of sweat and cum on their skin, they stayed like that for a while, regaining their breath and enjoying the contact between the bare skin of their bodies.

Dean closed his eyes and let himself be invaded by Cas’ comforting scent. The boy’s hair tickled his cheek and smelled of mint and a tinge of honey. Dean stretched his arm behind him and used his finger to move aside a few strands, a smile on his face.

Cas grabbed roughly his wrist and lifted his face. The boy’s gaze was intense and focused on him. Dean didn’t know what to say, on the tip of his tongue an excuse. Before he could come up with something, Cas let go of his wrist and slipped out of Dean’s body, pulling a grunt from both of them.

He put on the boxers right after, picking them up from the scattered pile of clothes, and casually leaned back on the seat. Dean swallowed. The situation had become awkward and they were once again two strangers.  
He lifted himself and was seized by a pang of pain. He cursed softly and those blue eyes returned to him.

"Does it hurt?"

"No shit, Sherlock.” He rubbed his lower back. “I mean...you didn't exactly go easy on me, Cas," he said with a laugh.

Castiel looked at him seriously though. If Dean didn't know any better, he seemed genuinely concerned. Then, his face became distant again, a mask of indifference. He rummaged in his sweatshirt pocket and pulled out what must have been more weed, never saying a word.

The air between them had drastically changed and Dean couldn't help but remember a few days ago Castiel wrapping his arms around that woman’s body. She was _nobody_. Neither was Dean. His eyes glistened with unshed tears. He couldn't help it. It wasn't supposed to end like this. It was all going too well to end like this.

“Not in the car," he only said.

“Oh?" Castiel looked defiantly at him, his tongue already wetting a rolling paper.

"Out," Dean's voice was firm.

Castiel raised an eyebrow. If he noticed the shiny eyes, he didn't show it. “Are you serious Freckles?"

Dean looked at him in silence. He hoped his face showed nothing of the pain he felt.

"All right," Castiel sounded annoyed.  
 _Good_

“You're an asshole,” Dean couldn't help but tell him.  
Castiel quickly put on his sweatshirt and pants. Then he leaned in.

“But you already knew this Dean, didn't you? It's all part of my charm. At the end of the day, you're just like everyone else," he said those words as if spitting venom and got out of the car, leaving Dean there, naked on the seats.

_Fuck._

Dean had enough.  
He quickly dressed and looking out the window, he saw Castiel with his back leaning against the car. He slid into the front seat as quickly as possible and without thinking, he turned the keys.

“Fuck,” he heard Castiel curse as he started to hit the gas.

Cas was suddenly in front of the car, his hands stretched forward.  
“Dean! What the fuck are you doing?”

_Wrong answer_

Dean put his foot on the accelerator and the car slid slowly forward.

“Okay! Okay! God, I was a dick, I shouldn’t have. Stop being a psychopath now!”

“I don’t want to run you over, asshole!” He screamed to be heard.

“What the fuck are you doing then?”

Dean turned off the car. He didn't know. All of a sudden he’d only wanted to leave, to go as far away from him as possible. The anger left him and he simply became exhausted.  
Castiel slid into the car and sat silently by his side.

"I was leaving," whispering the words, Dean didn't meet Cas’ gaze. Instead, he watched the ocean darken and disappear into the darkness of the night.

“Dean...” Cas had turned completely towards him, a frail expression on his face. He looked almost scared.  
It lasted only a moment, for he was able to compose himself soon after. He looked out at the ocean.

They stood silent for a while, then Cas went through the tapes, picked one, and loaded it.

_Hey Jude_   
_Don’t be afraid..._

Dean widened his eyes in awe, but he still did not turn to look at the boy.

“Dean...fuck.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I...” he sighed. “I did it all wrong with you, green eyes, didn’t I?”

Maybe it was the voice in which Cas said it, sincere and broken, maybe it was the leg next to his that was shaking all the time, but Dean couldn’t ignore it. So he turned to him and met his gaze, mirroring himself in the depth of those blue eyes.

He cracked a smile and Castiel seemed to calm down. “Dean, Dean Winchester,” he held out his hand.

Cas looked at him with suspicion, then seemed to understand and smiled, shaking his head.

“Castiel Novak, but you can call me Cas,” he said with a winking look. A big smile on his face, a different smile, just for Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was my first time writing smut, have mercy on me >.<  
> Cas’ point of view will return in the next chapter. As you can tell, the story will mostly be told from Dean’s perspective.  
> I hope you’re curious about what Charlie and Cas are hiding. I wonder, what it could be?
> 
> Anyway, If you have anything to say about the chapter or the story in general, I’m glad 🥰
> 
> Here are a few songs:  
> \- Sweater Weather (Nghb)  
> \- Daddy issues (Nghb)  
> \- Locked out of heaven (Bruno Mars)  
> The one they listened to the radio.  
> \- Ocean eyes (Billie Eilish)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey beautiful people, looks who’s back!!  
> Yeah, I know, I suck lol. I’ve been occupied lately, tomorrow I have my first exam so... yeah :’) 
> 
> Returning to the story now, I really appreciated every kudo! 
> 
> ⚠️**I have to remind u to read carefully the tags and warnings, this story deals with heavy themes that not everybody might enjoy.**
> 
> Anyway, think you're gonna hate me a bit for how this chapter starts, hope to be forgiven though when the domestic moment between these two starts. (Don’t know if domestic’s the right term, you will get me when you’ll read about it.)  
> Sorry for the errors,  
> Enjoy!!

When Castiel got home that night, he couldn't get rid of the image of Dean's naked body under him, with green eyes that were two wells of desire and soft lips parted in desperate sounds.  
He could not forget the feeling of the soft skin of those thighs, of the caramel hair twisted around his fingers, of his cock buried in the wonderful heat of that body.

Dean Winchester was ruining him.

It had been a long time since Castiel had spent an afternoon like this, talking and joking with someone without wearing a mask, without pretending to want to be there.

Dean was unlike anyone else he had met. Dean was everything Castiel had tried to get away from, and he felt his control slipping more and more.  
This is why he’d been afraid when, there, in that car, isolated from everyone, they had looked into each other’s eyes. Dean seemed to stare into his soul, seemed to realize how special he was to Castiel. So, he’d tried to ruin the moment, to make it the same to all the others. Sex and carnal pleasure, nothing more.

His efforts had been in vain, because at the end of the night, Castiel knew what he had with Dean was nothing he already experienced, that it was something certainly beyond physical desire.  
Everything was easier before Dean.

He heaved a sigh and sat down on the couch in the small living room. It was crumpled and the patch was ruined. He opened a bottle of whiskey, he had only that and poured some liquid into the glass.

Then there was Charlie.  
Castiel had lost his mind when he'd recognized her next to Dean, so he'd grabbed that girl, whose name he couldn't even remember, to convince himself that nothing had changed.  
He was always in control.

He didn't expect to meet Charlie there and especially not next to Dean. He hadn't talked to the redhead in a long time, not since...  
He swallowed the alcohol and felt the liquid going down and burn his throat. He looked at his cell phone, he still had the girl's number. She had once been his closest friend.

He was about to call her, then changed his mind. He called Meg instead.

"Hey, Clarance.”

Castiel pressed his fingers to his forehead as if to relieve a nonexistent headache. Apparently, this was the effect the voices of people other than Dean had on him. He’d forgotten about it.

“Meg.”

"What's up with you, big boy?"

Castiel stood in silence.

He had told Dean he’d do things differently. _Why did he do it? Because Dean was about to leave._  
But they were nothing anyway, he’d never told him otherwise.

"Meg...come here?”

Silence.

"Castiel are you sure that-?"

"-Yes. I'll see you in ten minutes, bye.”  
Before hanging up, he had time to hear a snort from the other end of the line.

Dean was different, but Castiel had to get it into his head that there could be nothing between him and the boy. Nothing.

He opened the door for Meg and before she could say anything, he kissed her furiously. He would forget the aphrodisiac taste of Dean's lips, the scent and the feel of his freckled skin, his big green eyes. Because Dean didn't deserve to be with him. Because Dean had his whole life ahead and Castiel had no time left. Because Dean was making him feel things he’d detached from, feelings he’d been able to suppress.   
_He couldn't afford to fall in love with him_.

He fucked Meg hard on the couch until he made her come three times. He ran his hands all over her body, squeezed his fingers on her thighs, and twisted them into her long brown hair.  
When he came, however, he only thought about Dean lying on the seats of that car with his soft skin bathed in moonlight, with his back arched, muscles strained and mouth open to scream his name.

He was fucked.

  
  
~

  
  


"Dean, your car reeks of sex.”

“What?!"

Charlie frowned at him.  
She lived near his apartment and Dean was giving her a ride. _That’s how kindness pays off. Dean always said it: better to be dickheads._

"Charlie don't be ridiculous."

The girl took a closer look at the back seats. She stuck her hand behind the seats, causing Dean to almost lose control of the car out of concern, and pulled out a pair of socks.

_The fuck?!_

Dean looked at her, gaping like a dying fish, then did a couple of mental calculations and realized those were Castiel's socks. Dean would strangle the boy with his own smelly socks.  
 _How do you even forget to put your socks on? Christ_. He'd certainly done it on purpose. 

"These don't look like women's sizes." Charlie stretched out the socks to convey the idea. "Oh, look, it's got cannabis on it. At this point, I can only think of one person-" 

"-Alright, alright. Yesterday I met with Cas, ok?”   
She would get there on her own, lying would only prolong his torture.

"Ok? Ok???"

_Shit_

"Dean Winchester."

_Double shit_

“What did I tell you?"

Dean parked the car in front of the University and looked at Charlie's face. She seemed seriously worried.

"That car sex isn't as good as they make it seem in movies?”

“Dean, I'm not in the mood. You know what I mean."

Dean took a breath and looked at her seriously. "Charlie, I know, but it’s something stronger than me, I don’t—I can't stay away from him ok? I just can’t.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to avoid, Dean. Don't you understand that you will never have anything with him?"

Dean could feel the anger building. “Who’s to say what I already have isn’t enough for me, huh?? I know what I'm doing, Charlie."

“Oh yeah? You're thinking with your heart and this is exactly how we screw ourselves, Dean, we make the heart choice instead of the smart choice.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, I have everything under control.”

"Oh yeah, I can see it."

"I don't get why you’re so mad at him. Maybe if you talked to me ‘bout it instead of changing the subject every time, I’d start to understand why I should stay away from Cas.”

Charlie seemed to be at a loss for words.  
“N-never mind,” she said almost whispering, before hurrying out of the car.

Every time the girl talked about Cas, she transformed into a different person. Again, there was something Dean didn't know. He’d talk to Cas about it, maybe he'd have been more reasonable.  
He thought back to the boy's temper, how he could get annoyed and cold in less than two seconds. 

Hmmm, maybe he’d have convinced Charlie instead.

He looked at the socks Cas had left behind. There was actually a marijuana leaf drawn on it. It was purple, personified, wore sunglasses, and smoked other marijuana.   
_Moron_

He took them with him and threw them in the bag. He would have asked around where Cas lived to return them, absolutely not because he was already missing him like crazy.  
 _Nuh-uh_

  
  
  


~

  
  
  


Classes were over and Dean was having an existential crisis, going up and down campus halls under the worried looks of people.  
 _Fuck them_  
Like they’ve never seen a college student with a pair of socks in his hands biting his nails and going up and down in stress. It was more than normal. Maybe not the socks part.

He’d been in the hallway leading to Castiel’s room for...he looked at the cell phone.  
 _Ten fucking minutes!!!_

He cleared his throat as if that would magically give him the courage to do anything, and strode to Castiel's door. He knocked with a firm touch at the same time he heard the sound of the door behind him opening. Turning around, he saw a tall guy. Blond hair, blue eyes, and an athletic build under the black shirt. He was grinning sultry at him, not hiding the lust in his gaze. The old Dean, the one before Castiel, would have flashed a seductive smile and shamelessly hit on him.

"And you are?" The blond said, leaning his arm against the doorframe as clearly interested eyes studied his body from top to bottom.

"No one you need to care about Nick. Piss off."

Dean jumped hearing that deep voice almost growl behind him. He turned and saw Castiel in all his glorious beauty. The uncovered arms crossed to the chest, the muscles of the biceps twitching, the brutal look.  
Dean wasn't ashamed to say that display of power was making him horny as fuck.

"Oh, Novak, didn't know you were fuckin’ him. You could still share him, though. I mean, it ain’t the first time-"  
Nick couldn't finish the sentence, because Cas was suddenly in front of him, the muscles in his arms straining and ready to strike.

_Shit_

Dean quickly stepped himself between them. "Woah, hey. There's no need to kill anyone, Cas.”  
He stared at him and Castiel met his gaze, ice blue blending with vivid green.

"Tsk," he cast one last lapidary glance at Nick, who was about to piss in his pants and grabbed Dean by the wrist, yanking him away.

“C-Cas!”

In less than five seconds Dean found himself in Castiel’s apartment, with his back slammed against the door and the boy’s hungry lips devouring his mouth.

“Hmmm, Cas-"  
Castiel guided Dean’s hands over his head and pressed him even more firmly against the door. His legs went jelly and his head started to get dizzy, the blood boiling in his veins. Then the boy pulled away from him and Dean was able to catch his breath.

He leaned his head against the door, breathing deeply. "While you're at it why don't you piss on me?”

"Don't be ridiculous, Dean.”

Dean considered himself a mature person. He still gave Cas an incredulous look as if to say ‘you’re one to talk’ and gave him the finger. In return, Castiel flashed him a smile that was all teeth.

"Anyway, I think, uh, Nick got the idea."

"Oh, I hope so. For his own sake,” Castiel said seriously.

Dean blushed, it was strange to see the boy acting so possessive. It was a sight he wished he could enjoy more often. He cleared his throat. "Is he always like that?"

"Yeah, other people's business always seems to come first for him.” He snapped his tongue. “Fuckin’ Nick.”

“You two seem like great buddies,” Dean said chuckling. Cas snorted and launched himself on the small couch at the side of the room.

Dean took a moment to observe the apartment. It was small, kitchen and living room in the same room, some plants and papers scattered around, one window on the right side next to the kitchen and a larger one on the left side, near the couch. Dean was surprised to not see a television. In its place, a stack of books with faded covers and an old cassette radio. The scent of sweet honey and fresh mint lingered in the air. Dean noticed that jars of honey were scattered on the kitchen table. He laughed softly.

"What's so funny?" Cas asked, watching him from the couch. He didn’t seem angry. 

"Oh nothing, I just didn't imagine a guy like you having five jars of honey on the kitchen table."  
In the dimness of the apartment, he thought he saw Cas blushing.

“Mind your fucking business, green eyes. Honey is good and the bees fascinating.”

“The bees...what?" 

Cas gave him an amused smile. He was probably fucking with him.

Then he got serious and sat up on the couch, turning towards him. “Why are you here?” 

Dean opened his mouth, then closed it again.   
_Right_  
He looked around and bingo, the socks were on the floor in front of the door. He must have dropped them when Cas had attacked his mouth. He picked them up and showed them to the boy.   
Cas came up to him and snatched them from his hands. 

“Where-" 

“-Car.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah...”

Dean watched in amusement as the boy studied the socks as if they could have the answers to all the questions. Then Castiel gave him a sharp look and set the socks down on the couch.  
He headed into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of alcohol. 

Dean hated seeing someone drink alcohol so casually, like it was water. Probably because of his father, the man who not so long ago drank at all hours to the point of puking his guts out at the end of every day.

Castiel must had realized how uncomfortable the all thing was making him, because he put the bottle back on the shelves, without even opening it.

He sighed. “You shouldn’t be here, green eyes.”

“And you shouldn’t leave your stinky socks lying around.”

“My socks don’t stink.”

“Wow,” that’s all Dean said, smiling and shaking his head.

Looking again at Cas, he noticed that the boy’s gaze had grown softer.  
Cas sighed. It was something he did often when being with Dean.

“Do you want a piece of warm bread with honey?”

Dean was surprised. He certainly didn’t expect that. “Wait...don’t tell me you’re actually obsessed with bees.”

“They’re cute and mind their own business by not coming in people’s homes to annoy them. Now, do you want the bread, Winchester, yes or no?”

Dean opened his mouth, feeling accused, but then said nothing and simply laughed. “I swear, you’re weird.”

“Fuck you.” He said so, but he was already preparing two slices of honey bread, his full inked arms working with determination, Dean was finding the scene quite hilarious.

On Castiel’s uncovered wrist, he recognized the tattoo he’d glimpsed in the library. It was an angel fiercely raising a sharp sword, shedding blood from the eyes. Higher up, coiled around the arm, a snake.

“Dean.”

“Hm?”

Castiel said nothing and handed him a piece of bread.  
Dean hesitantly took a bite and made a moan-like sound when the sweet taste of honey exploded on his tongue. Cas’ gaze was immediately on him, veiled with desire.

“Good, isn’t it?” He asked amused. “I get it somewhere nearby.”

“You mean you go around with a Harley and two jars of honey in your hands?”

“Mind your tongue green eyes, don’t forget you’re in my home.” He said so taking a bite too.

_“Home”_

“Is there no one else who lives here with you? A roommate?"

"No.”

"Oh.” Strange. "And you can afford all this on your own? Campus apartments are indeed cheap here, but-"

"-I have a scholarship,” Castiel said in one breath, his eyes fixed on the slice of bread in his hand. He didn't say anything else.

They ate in silence, then Castiel looked at him. “What do you expect from this?”

Dean swallowed the last piece of bread. “Cas, I already told you, I...I don’t expect anything, I just need what we have.”

Cas looked at the ground, then turned his blue eyes back on him.  
“What I can give you, Dean, shouldn’t be enough.”

Dean didn’t expect such words, not from him, not spoken in a tone mixed with sadness and resignation. So, he quickly bypassed the small kitchen table and went in front of him. The white shirt slightly revealed the protruding bones of the hips and the black lines of the tattoos.

Dean leaned forward to kiss him. Their lips moved slowly. For the first time, they kissed without a hurry, simply enjoying the taste of their mouths and meeting lazy with their tongue. Castiel gently took his hips and brought him close. The kiss became more demanding and Dean’s hands explored the boy’s skin under the shirt, receiving a sound of approval.

They moved slightly away to catch their breath and Cas looked at him. Dean could see the effect his touch and kisses had on him. His cheeks were red, his plump lips swollen and glistening, his eyes dark.  
Dean couldn’t resist and ran his hands through the black, rebellious hair, and this time Castiel didn’t stop him, nor say anything.

“Tell me about yourself, green eyes,” he said after a while.

Dean looked at him in surprise. “There’s not much to say, Cas.”

Castiel cracked a gentle smile.  
“I don’t believe it. Where are you from?” He asked him as he began to move his thumbs along his hips, drawing small circles.

Dean stopped petting his hair. “Kansas.”

“Why are you here, Kansas boy?”

Dean shook his head smiling.  
“Mechanical engineering. I can build a car from scratch, piece by piece. The passion for cars has always been with me and I don’t see why it shouldn’t also be in my future.”

At the word future, Cas’ gaze became more uncertain, he slowly moved him away and let go of his hips, standing up.  
Dean watched him get back on the couch.

After moments of excruciating silence, he heard Castiel’s deep voice again. “That’s a good thing, green eyes.”  
Dean then approached him, but Cas said nothing. He was simply staring at the ground, his teeth biting nervously his nails.

“Cas, if I have to go-"  
Just then, Castiel beckoned him to sit down.

“I chose literature because the stories of others have always fascinated me. Sometimes their stories are completely different from mine, in others I find my same doubts, my same pains, my same feelings...Isn't it fascinating? Art that transcends time and individuality itself, art that binds us all. "

Castiel met his gaze and beamed. Dean felt his heart melting and tried to hide it.  
"Wow, Cas. You seem really smart when you talk like that, you could fool anyone.”  
Castiel laughed heartily and Dean smiled.

"How about you just shut up and put your flat ass on the couch."

"My ass...I’m pretty sure yesterday you wanted to write an ode to my ass, I don't think flat is-"  
Castiel grabbed his arm and pulled him down.

"Today you’re having too much fun manhandling me.”

Cas’ eyes sparkled and his face got closer.  
"But you like it, don't you, Dean?" He whispered in his ear.

Dean’s face was in flame.  
Cas chuckled and the gravelly sound made his skin shiver. Looking at him, the boy’s eyes darkened with lust and he ran the tip of his fingers over Dean’s neck, where lingered the marks of the hickey he’d left him days ago. Dean could only watch, completely enraptured by the movement of those longs fingers on his skin. He gulped.

“What do you know about James Joyce, green eyes?”

“Huh? Joy...Who?”

Cas rolled his eyes.

“Oh don’t make that face, a) I was distracted because of you, b) it’s like asking you what year and model my car is-"

“-Impala, ’67.”

Dean gasped. “You cheated, you searched the internet.”

Cas smirked. “You’re right, after all in that car we had some nice moments. We’ve known each other in the biblical sense, all night while-"

“-Fuck, I get it, you made your point.”

Cas gave him a triumphant smile, the bastard knew what he felt like just hearing about that moment.

He got up from the couch and before Dean could protest, he loaded a tape and came back with a little book in his hands.  
Elvis played in the background.

“Elvis? I didn’t take you for an Elvis kind of guy, I thought you were more like-"

“-Shut up and put your head on my legs.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “You suck at these things.”

“What things?”

“Romantic.”

Cas raised an eyebrow to let him know what he thought of him and his bullshit. Dean smiled at him. “You know, romantic gestures...like when you took me those fries and-"

“-Either shut your mouth, green eyes or go out the door, it doesn’t change for me.” With that, he opened the book and started reading with his eyes to convey the idea.

Dean gasped and pretended to be offended, but Cas didn’t react.  
Dean studied his profile then, gently illuminated by the soft light of the lamp next to the couch. He had the same relaxed expression Dean saw that day in the library. The big, tattooed hands brought under his chin, the eyes devouring the lines of the pages, the disheveled hair.

Dean slowly stretched out on the couch, resting his head on the boy’s legs. Cas started reading aloud. “The dead.”

“Doesn’t seem cheerful.”

“Shh.”

Dean smiled and then felt his heartbeat grow louder as Cas started to run a hand through his hair. From time to time the metal of Cas’s rings would tickle the warm skin of his cheeks.

They spent the rest of the afternoon like this, with Cas reading the pages and Dean listening to the sound of that hoarse yet honey-like voice reading about the lives of Dubliners. In the background, he could hear the sound of rain pounding against the glass and Elvis' music pleasantly invading the room. He was afraid it was all a dream.

"What do you think about it, Dean?"  
Cas’ voice pulled him from his thoughts.

He turned his face towards Cas and grinned seductively at him, his head still resting on the boy's legs.  
"That you have a great voice.”

Castiel laughed. "How about thoughts that don't come from your dick?"

Dean turned red. "Hey, I can be deep, too, you know?”

"Ok, did you like it or not? You don't have to be Shakespeare to answer that."

“Oh, Shakespeare...will you read me Romeo and Juliet next time?” He accompanied the question with a broad smile to tease him even more, and Cas’ hand pressed against his face.  
Dean laughed and tried to pull it away. “C-as, Cas ahahah, stop it, you’re killing me, C-as, ahaha, seriously, I’m dying suffocated.”

“You’re a fucking melodramatic Dean”, Cas pulled his hand away and looked Dean in the eye. He answered his question. “Maybe.”

Dean was surprised.  
 _Next time_

“Now dear Juliet, get the fuck out of here, it’s seven.”

“Already?? Wait, if I’m Juliet...does this make you my Romeo then?”

Cas didn’t answer him, he’d already thrown him out of the room.

“Hey, hey! Hold on!”

Before shutting him out, Cas kissed him one last time, the sweet taste of honey was on his tongue.

“Good night Dean”, he whispered, pulling away. Dean put his foot in between to keep Cas from closing the door. Castiel raised an eyebrow and no one had given him the right to be so sexy.

Hands shaking, Dean pulled a mixtape out of his jeans pocket. It was a Led Zeppelin playlist which included his favorite songs.  
His parents had also exchanged one when they were young and...well, in love.

“Um, in the car you said you'd like to have one, and here, uh, here you go. I-I have more at home, my room’s full with it actually.”  
He nervously scratched the back of his neck.

Cas said nothing, just stared at the mixtape Dean was holding like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Dean retraced his hand. “Uh, okay, maybe I was being stupid, I just thought-" Cas took it from his hands. They were warm on his.  
“Thank you, Dean.”

“Uh, yeah, it’s nothing, really.”

“Good night, green eyes.”

They looked at each other for a long time. They did it often and Dean wondered what people thought seeing them.

“Night, Cas.”

  
  
  


~

_"Will you read me, Romeo and Juliet, next time?"_  
Large, green eyes flickering under the warm light of the lamp, freckles scattered across his nose, and a playful smile on the face. That was all Castiel had been able to think about during the lessons. He wished he could paint the expression Dean had on his face that night, lying there on his lap.

 _Next time_  
Those words came back to haunt him.

Castiel tapped his pen on the paper, already thinking about what might happen in their next meeting. Dean surprised him every time. Dean made him feel good.

He saw the cell phone screen light up.

_"I'm on my own at lunch...Some company?"_

Castiel took his lips between his fingers, it was a gesture he often made when he was nervous.

_"It depends.”_

_“For a blowjob? ;)"_

Castiel almost choked. Once the initial embarrassment was over, Dean seemed to have no scruples.  
But now that Castiel thought about it, who knows how Dean would look like kneeling before him...He’d probably have wide and dark eyes, red cheeks, big, plump lips open wide on his-  
“Cassie!”

“What the fuck, Bart!”

The blond boy nodded towards the teacher. Missouri. The woman seemed to have called him more than once. Castiel shuddered. Nothing scared the shit out of him more than Missouri losing her temper.  
Beyond the psychological terror, she was a good woman and the most capable teacher Castiel had encountered. Besides, Missouri seemed to have grown fond of him. After all, he was participating a lot during class, sharing his opinions, making constructive comments, and Missouri was the type of person to appreciate those kinds of things.

"Castiel? Do you want to take some time to think about anything other than J. D. Salinger, outside of here?"

Castiel cleared his throat as Bart snickered in the background. He kicked him in the shins at the same time he smiled at Missouri. “No, ma'am.”

“That’s what I hope.”  
She continued explaining the lesson and Castiel could take a breath.

He looked at the cell phone.

_“I’ll buy you lunch.”_

_“Desperate, aren’t u?_   
_You already had me convinced at the blowjob, but alright. Choose something good to eat.”_

_“A dick. That’s what you are. You didn’t answer right away on purpose.”_

Castiel smiled.

_“See u later, green eyes.”_

_“Fuck u.”_

_“Hmmm.”_

_“ ... “_

He turned off his phone screen and smiled, Bart’s gaze a mixture of curiosity and wonder.

“Shut your face.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it.”

“So, was it green-"

“-Listen to the damn lesson, Bart.”

  
  
  


~

He found Dean sitting at one of the tables outside college. He had a heavy black scarf twisted around his neck, a red flannel shirt coming out of his black jacket. The tip of his nose was slightly red due to the cold and his cheeks were stuffed with food.  
 _And he wondered why I used to call him squirrel_

The sound of his laughter scared Dean to the point he almost fell backward. The boy fixed him with a stern look, almost as if to reproach him.  
“Dam it, Cas. My heart can’t stand this shit any longer, we should put you a bell around that neck”, he said slurring a few words, his cheeks still full.

“Oh, kinky, didn’t take you for the type.” He couldn’t help but wink at him.

Dean’s mouth dropped open and he froze like that. Castiel feared he might have broken him.  
“That’s disgusting Dean, shut your mouth.”

At his words, the boy seemed to recover and swallowed the food. He passed him what probably was the lunch. “I got you tacos and that’s how you thank me. There’s also pie.”

Castiel looked inside the envelope and actually saw tacos and a piece of apple pie. “This is the strangest lunch you could think of.”

Dean looked at him feigning an offended expression.  
“You could always give it back to me.”

Castiel sat down on the table, his feet dangling.  
"Cas, you’re puttin’ your ass where I should be eating.”

Castiel smirked confidently, he loved to tease the boy. Dean's face flushed and he lifted his scarf to his nose as if to hide behind it.

“Anyway, you could have waited for me," Castiel said taking a bite out of a taco after dipping it in the extra spicy sauce, the all thing under Dean's astonished gaze.  
“How does your tongue don’t catch fire-“

"-Oh fuck, they're good. Nice work, green eyes.” He turned to the boy and obviously, he was even redder than before. He couldn't help but smile.

Dean cleared his throat. “Anyway...I didn’t wait for your irritating slow ass—“ At this, Castiel chuckled. “— ‘cause you were taking too long, and I couldn't ignore the smell of tacos,” Dean finished the phrase almost pouting. He was adorable.  
 _Adorable?? Get a grip for fuck’s sake_

He watched Dean pull out his piece of the pie. His eyes had lit up and his lips were folded into a wide, bright smile.  
 _Great, now he felt jealous of a piece of cake_

Dean took a bite and made an almost pornographic sound.  
"Wow, and here I thought I was giving you pleasure.”  
In response, Dean gave him an annoyed look, but a second later he was back to eating pie with gusto.

"So...that blowjob?"

Dean started coughing and hitting his chest hard.  
“Fuck you.”

"You were the first to bring it out."

“I paid for your lunch, I froze my ass off waiting and you ruined my moment with pie, you don't deserve it."

Castiel laughed heartily, rocking back and forth on the table, his head thrown back.  
Dean blushed again, an expression of wonder on his face. Castiel wished he knew what Dean was thinking every time he looked at him like that, like he was unique in the world.

“How come you’re so obsessed with pies?"

“Says the guy with a strange obsession with bees.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow and Dean fell silent, clearing his throat. Then he looked away and started nervously cutting the pie into small pieces.

“Um, my mum...she loved it. Pie, I mean, especially with apples,” he said smiling faintly, his gaze lost in memories. “She cooked it often for me and Sammy when, uh, when we were kids.”

“Sammy?”  
Dean looked at him and his eyes lit up again.  
 _So much better_

“Sam, my little brother”, he said with a big smile. Castiel could see how close he must have been to his brother. Castiel cared deeply about Gabriel, too, even though now they were constantly at each other’s throats.

“He’s a good kid and he’s a fucking genius. He already knows what he wants to do with his life and I’m damn proud of him.”  
Dean’s smile was blinding and Castiel wondered how he could deserve him.

“When...when you talked about your mother...you talked about her in the past...”  
The smile died on Dean’s lips and Castiel cursed himself.

“She died, many years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

Dean ate the last piece of cake. “Me too.”

They were silent for a moment. Castiel pulled out his piece of pie and ate it. “Now I understand the pornographic sounds.” Dean smiled at him and Castiel couldn't help but be happy about it.

"Pornographic sounds? You could try to contain a bit of sexual tension, you two. We’re in a public place, after all.” Meg's voice was behind him and a slender arm twisted around his shoulders.  
 _Fuckin’ great_

“Meg, what the fuck are you doing here?" The girl just smiled at him, her eyes black and mischievous. "Why? I can't talk to a..." Her gaze slid longingly down the length of his body. “...friend?"

Castiel looked at Dean. The boy was no longer smiling, a frown on his face while watching his interaction with Meg.

The girl fixed her eyes at Dean. "Oh, I finally get to meet you in person.”

"Meg.” A warning.

“Didn't think I was famous.” Dean laughed, clearly uneasy.

"Oh, Dean-o, you're on everyone's lips here. It's been a long time since Clarence has kept someone to fuck more than a week.”

"Meg, stop it,” Castiel almost growled at her.

Dean’s face froze. Then, he seemed to try and pull himself together and gave Meg a cold smile. “It’s all right, Cas, I know how to deal with jealous people.”

Dean managed to wrest the arrogant smirk from the girl’s face, but his victory was short-lived because Meg’s eyes lit up again and she leaned forward on the table. “Oh, there’s nothing to be jealous of, little Dean-o. Believe me. I’m the one he called the other night. It’s my name he shouted while he fucked me in his-“

“-Too bad it won’t happen again, Megan,” Castiel interrupted, directing at her one of his coldest glare.  
The words had come out before he could even stop them. All because of the emotions he saw in Dean’s face. Confusion, hurt, shame. That boy wore his heart on his sleeve.

Meg looked surprised, almost hurt. Her mouth was shaking. Then she laughed sourly, pressing her tongue against the inside of her cheek. “You know what? You’re unbelievable, fuck you, Castiel.”  
She walked away quickly, not looking back.

Dean stood up, took his lunch bags, and was about to leave when Castiel grabbed his shoulder. "Where are you going?”

"Let go of me," he struggled in his grip.

"Dean.”

“Fuck, Castiel, I just need to throw these away, ok??" He finally looked up and Castiel's heart broke. His eyes were shining.

He let him go and the boy did as he said, then went back to get his bag. Castiel was right behind him.

"Dean, wait a moment."  
Dean didn’t listen.

“Would you just stop for a fuckin’ second??”

Dean snorted and let go of his bag, sitting down on the table.  
"What?"

“You knew that between the two of us-"

“-Yes, I know, you just keep saying it but don't ask me to pretend, Cas, don't ask me to pretend that I don’t give a fuck.”

Castiel felt his breath taken away. He didn’t expect those words, nor that broken look. He bit his lip hard. He wanted to give him everything, but he couldn't...

"Dean, you can't ask me to...ours can't become a full-fledged relationship.”

Dean still didn't meet his gaze.  
"I already told you...it’s ok, but don't talk about others, not when we're together.”

"There won't be anything to talk about anyway.”  
 _Stupid, why the fuck did you say that?_  
 _Only to see those eyes light up a little more_

Dean looked at him in surprise. Castiel cleared his throat, he had said too much.

"See you, green eyes, thanks for lunch."

“Cas!"

He turned around.

"I forgot my jacket at your place the other day.”

Castiel smiled at him. "You can take it back tomorrow. Four o'clock. On-time.”

Dean's eyes grew bright and his smile mischievous. Castiel wanted to take him right now, right there on that table.

“Or what? You gonna punish me?"

_Fuck_

He was immediately before him, to hold those tender hips in his hands, to see those green eyes opening wide, to taste those soft lips.

He tasted like pie.

Castiel stepped back from him and spanked his round ass. Dean jumped forward in surprise and yet visibly excited.

"Oh?"

“Shut your mouth, Cas," he intimated, red in the face.

Castiel walked away laughing. The sweet taste of those lips still on his tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it. I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Tell me what u think :P  
> Songs as usual  
> — Afraid, neighborhood ( Not obsessed with them, noooo )  
> — Alleyways, neighborhood (again)  
> — Save that shit, Lil Peep  
> — I think I’m okay, Machine Gun Kelly (love this song in particular)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry, I'm late, seeing how things are going, It'll be more likely for me to update once every two weeks.
> 
> Thank u for any kind of support you gave me and hopefully you will give me. I really appreciate it.
> 
> As regards this chapter, Dean and Cas will open up a bit more. Fluff and smut. Enjoy and let me hear what u think about it :P

Dean met with Castiel the next day and the day after that and so for the rest of the week. It was like a game, Dean would pretend to forget something to have the excuse to take it back the day after.

Cas had always welcomed him in comfortable clothes, dirty t-shirts, sweatpants, messy hair, and bare feet. It was a sight that always made him smile. How Castiel could be so relaxed next to him...

Dean talked to Cas about the allure of classic cars and searched for images on the internet to show him. Whereupon the boy always said he preferred his motorbike, the one they would soon be taking a ride on. Thing is, when Dean pictured himself on that bike there were always two situations that came to mind: him pissing in his pants in fear or him getting himself a boner watching Castiel's confidence at the wheel, feeling the back muscles twitching under his arms. In short, he was totally against it.

When they were together in his apartment, Cas also kept reading pieces of his favorite books, one of these 'Pride and Prejudice'. Dean had raised his eyebrows to tease him and for that alone, he'd earned what Cas called a sign of love: a sharp elbow digging into his ribs.  
Every time in the background, the songs of Led Zeppelin, those of the mix tape Dean had given him. Every time, Dean felt on top of the world and he didn't even try to hide it.

On the first day, Cas pointed out that Dean still owed him a blowjob. Dean managed to pretend he wasn't the least interested for the first five minutes. Things changed quickly. He still remembered the weight of Cas' cock on his tongue, its taste, the frantic thrusts, the wild eyes, and the boy's destroyed expression as he pushed again and again in the heat of his mouth. In short, that day they found out that Dean on his knees for Cas was something both of them liked a lot.

It had been a week since the last time they met at the boy's house. Dean hadn't "forgotten" anything this time, which meant the two of them were running out of excuses. They would see each other at Castiel's house only because they wanted to spend time together.

Dean had been looking at his phone without doing anything for over half an hour now. He was sitting on the floor in the living room, cell phone in his hands, his gaze fixed on the screen and his legs gangrenous. If he ever got up, he'd have probably needed a wheelchair, which was a shame, because certain activities, those that included Castiel for example, would have a bit more difficult to practice.

“Dean...DEAN!!”

Dean pressed his hand over his heart, perhaps in an overly dramatic gesture, and gave Benny a wounded expression. "Holy shit, Benny."

Benny gave him a very displeased look. "I've been calling you for half an hour, Dean. You can't be pissed at me for being worried. If you don't get your ass up, you won't even be able to move your legs." Dean opened his mouth, then closed it again.  
"What are ya even doin’ sitting there on the floor?"

Dean didn't have a smart answer for that either, but this time he said it anyway. "I've discovered the art of meditation, Benny.”

"Uh-huh, you're lucky brother that I like morons.”

"I'm happy for you, feeling good with one's self is important."

Benny laughed. “And here I thought I'd make you pancakes.”

Dean looked at the other boy in alarm. Benny laughed again and went into the kitchen. Dean was sure he'd have cooked them anyway.

"Wait a second...did you say pancakes?"

"Yes!" It came from the kitchen.

Dean looked at his cell phone and smiled to himself. “Benny, would ya lend me your apron? The one that says kiss the cook.”

~

Nick's door opened and he seemed about to leave. Dean had time to just nod a greeting because upon seeing him, the boy made an alarmed expression and closed himself inside with inhuman speed.

"Okaaay...” He shifted his gaze to what must have been the reason for Nick's runaway.

Castiel's door was open and he was leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe. He was smoking. It had been so long since Dean had seen him with some weed, that he believed he'd quit.

"You'll ruin your appetite like that,” Dean nodded, pointing to the incriminating object.

Castiel looked at him unaffected and let go a thick puff of smoke. "You don't know shit about weed, do you?"

Dean frowned at him. Cas rolled his eyes and made his way into the apartment, gesturing him to do the same.

Once inside, Dean immediately placed the bags on top of the table. Not even time to turn around that Castiel was on him, his body modeled to his. He pulled back his t-shirt to reveal his collarbone and began to fill the soft skin with rough bites and open-mouthed kisses.

Dean yelped. "C-as...nngg...we should be doing pancakes!" He said so, but he reached out and gripped Castiel's raven hair in his fingers, encouraging him to go on. The boy's erection pressed insistently against the curve of his ass.

“Hmmm.”

_That damn voice_

“Maybe I want somethin' else, maybe I could take you, instead,” he mouthed while biting his neck, the soft skin trapped between his teeth.

“You're one smooth f-fucker, you know that?”

Cas chuckled, the sound making his skin hot. “My best quality,” he whispered while guiding a hand under Dean's shirt, then lower, to tease his erection.

Dean dropped his head back as Castiel finally, finally slipped a hand into his pants to cup his member. Dean let out moans of pleasure, interrupted only by the demanding kisses, as Castiel's rough hand worked him with firm, fast thrusts. Then, those skilled fingers suddenly released their grip on his cock and the heat of Castiel's body went away.

Dean felt his eyes shiny and cheeks hot, his erection pressing painfully against his pants. Castiel watched him intently and sinfully as he took one last drag of the joint he was smoking and then turned off the butt on a jar in the kitchen. “Couch”, he said.

Dean stood motionless, only looking at him. “Now, Dean.”

A second later, and he was exactly where Castiel wanted him. Before he could lie down on the couch, however, the boy climbed on top of him.

The room was dark, and Dean was struggling to recognize the details of Cas’ face. All he could see was the shadow of the sculpted cheekbones, his lips, and the fleeting glint of his eyes.  
He had already taken off his shirt and Dean’s hands eagerly explored the uncovered skin, traced the ribs, the black marks of the tattoos, the shoulder muscles.

When he brought his thumb to stroke a nipple, Cas took a deep breath and began to move over him, frantically making their dicks meet.

“Fuck!”  
He couldn’t say anything else because Castiel attacked his mouth straightaway, exploring it with his tongue. Strong hands pulled strands of his short hair, yanking his head back and baring his neck. He teased him a bit and then kissed and licked the white skin, tearing away sounds of pleasure.

He pulled away from him.

“Cas,” Dean said nothing but his name. Castiel was suddenly standing naked in front of him and he had no other words.

The boy was also quick to shed his boxers and pants, then the shirt followed and Dean found himself naked as well, his skin clinging to the fabric of the couch. Cas’ warm breath was immediately close to his ear. "Now, baby boy, I want you to fuck me like you mean it, okay?"

Those eyes were fixed on him, waiting for an answer but Dean couldn't find the words. Cas laughed then, a sound that only made Dean even more excited.

Without warning, Castiel grabbed his cock. “C-as.”

“Shh, baby.”  
With his mind flooded with pleasure, only then Dean realized Cas had not prepared himself, had not even pulled out the lube yet. “Cas, you can’t-" Castiel interrupted his words slowly sinking on his cock, inch by inch until Dean was completely engulfed in the heat of those tight walls.

When he was all inside Cas, they both grunted with pleasure.

Without wasting any time, Cas started to move and Dean could feel under his hands the muscles of those powerful legs twitching and Cas’ chest trembling with every breath.  
The boy pulled out completely and then sank even faster, even deeper. Dean threw his head backward, drowning in pleasure, in the feeling of Cas’ body squeezing tightly on his cock.

“Cas, are you—did you planned all this?”

Castiel didn’t answer his question right away. Instead, he set a brutal pace and grabbed Dean’s chin, his fingernails scratching the skin. “Don’t get used to it, green eyes.”

Dean just nodded quickly as he brought his hands up to cup the boy's hips. Castiel took them off almost immediately, wrapped Dean's wrists with one hand, and brought them behind his head. Dean got even harder and Castiel seemed to notice.

"Interesting-ah— God!”

“C-as, shit-” Dean began to meet Cas’ thrusts and the boy nearly screamed as soon as Dean found his prostate and hit it again and again in a desperate attempt to wrench those cries, to see Cas’ body contracting, greedy with pleasure. Then, the boy took control again. He stopped the frantic movement of Dean's hips, he bared his neck and attacked the freckle-filled skin as he resumed a brutal pace.

"Fuck, Dean, you're fuckin' gifted with that cock of yours.”

"Am—I?"

Dean gave him a pleading look, but Castiel only smiled. He was merciless. As he impaled himself over and over on Dean’s cock, his chest muscles strained beautifully and drops of sweat slid along his face and the white skin of his collarbones. Dean could see a primal hunger burning in the glint of his eyes.

It was too much.

“Cas-Cas, I'm-" Cas gripped his own cock then and began to thrust relentlessly in his fist, desperate to seek release. His eyes were closed tight, his lips were parted wide, his breath hot and uneven on Dean's mouth.

“Yes. Dean, give it to me.”

Dean came with his hands gripping the solid muscles of Cas’ thighs and the image of his seeds shooting inside that body.

Castiel kissed him hard and greedily sucked on his tongue as he came too, his come spurting between their abdomens.  
He took some with his fingers and placed it on Dean's lips.

His eyes wide and hazy by the orgasm were shining like a predator's. Dean's cock twitched at the sight, making the valiant effort to try and get hard again.

"Open.”

He did as he asked and Cas’ fingers suddenly invaded his mouth.  
"Lick.” Dean moaned around the digits and cleaned up every single drop with his tongue. Teeth scratching at the skin from time to time.

Castiel looked at him as if he wanted to destroy him over and over again.  
Dean would have let him.

“Hmm, good boy."

Cas got up, Dean's cock slowly pulling out of his body.

"Where are you going?

He got his answer when Castiel returned holding a shirt in his hand.

"We could take a shower instead.”

Cas raised an eyebrow. He was still naked and Dean would have wanted him to stay that way.

"You're insatiable,” Cas said to him and Dean did his best to look affronted.

“Cas, you're the one always thinking about fucking. I meant a simple shower."

Castiel raised an eyebrow, again.  
"What? Don't raise the eyebrow at me, Mr.sexy, I meant what I said. Shower sex is complicated.” At that, Cas laughed.

Dean decided to tease him a little. "But for you babe, I'd still get down on my knees," he said as a joke, running his tongue to moisten his lips, but Cas seemed more than affected. He voraciously followed the movement, swallowed nervously, and then looked away.

_Oooooh_

Dean confidently smirked at him and Cas threw the shirt in his face. Dean hoped (or maybe not, to each his own kinks) that Cas hadn't already used it to clean himself.

Castiel quickly put on a pair of faded jeans and turned on the light in the room. Only then Dean noticed the dark circles under Cas' blue eyes, the gaze more tired than usual, the pale face, the slowed movements.

Dean started to get dressed and Castiel handed him one of his sweatshirts. It was black with a skull printed. Dean blushed and smiled at him, Cas rolled his eyes. "Don't look at me like that, it's cold here."

"Uh-huh, Cas. I know you can't wait to see me in your clothes."

Castiel raised the corner of his mouth, hinting at a smile. "Maybe." He then turned his back, rummaging through the clothes he'd left on the floor and Dean gasped.

Huge black wings were tattooed on his back, the ink fading in some places as if to create the effect of broken and falling feathers. But the muscles twitched and so did those wings, with feathers that seemed alive and trying to explain flight.

Before realizing what he was doing, Dean was already stroking the curve of the wings with his fingertips. Cas' back muscles stiffened under his touch, and Castiel whirled around, grasping his wrist.

He looked at him seriously, then he softened his grip and let go of his hand. "Sorry, I'm not—I’m not used to it.”

"To be touched like this?"

Cas nodded and sat back down on the couch, his chest still bare and glistening with sweat. Dean immediately took his place beside him, resting his head on his shoulder, and Cas did nothing to stop him. He raised his hand and started to comb tenderly Dean's hair.

They looked like two teenagers in love, and yet they couldn't be further away from being it. Dean said that to himself, but he actually knew something was changing between the two of them, and most importantly, he was aware of the growing feeling that was making its way through his heart.

Seeing Castiel made him breathless, he was beautiful. His skin in contact with his was an electrifying sensation, his lips on him, the apocalypse. But it wasn't just the desire for his body that attracted him. And that was the problem. Dean had grown to love the look on Cas' face as he read him one of his books, the fact that his beautiful eyes sparkled while eating warm bread and honey and when now and then he told him about bees. Dean had grown to love that swaggering smile, the confidence it emanated, the emotions Cas made him feel. The boy demanded nothing from him and whenever they were together, Dean could be simply himself.

"Dean."

"Huh?”

"Were you falling asleep?"  
Castiel had gone back to smoking without Dean noticing it.

"No, sorry, I was just thinkin'."

Castiel gave him a mocking smile, Dean stuck a finger in his chest. "Don't.”

“I didn't say anything.”

“I know you wanted to say it.”

“Say what? That I'm surprised you're actually capable of think-” Dean poked him in the ribs and Cas held out his hands up in a gesture of surrender, that amused smile still on his face. Dean gave him one last dirty look and then took his time to study Cas' bare skin.

He brought his hand to caress the ribs, following the black lines of the tattoos. "Relax," he said as he felt Cas tensing. The boy did as Dean had told him, he let out a deep breath and made himself more comfortable on the couch.

"What language is it?"

“Huh?”

"This one,” he said pointing at the tattoos. “I don't recognize it."

"Enochian," Cas answered, leaving smoke from his nose.

“It's not helping."

"It is said to be the language of fallen angels.”

Dean looked at him in surprise. "Wait, Castiel...is it the name of an angel?"

Cas looked at him amused. "And you realize it now?"

Dean just nodded. He probably had a dumb expression on his face.  
Cas chuckled and leaned his neck to rest on the back of the couch, perhaps the smoke was starting to kick in. "I know what you're thinkin', someone like me named after an angel is almost laughable."

Dean couldn't deny it, yet he couldn't imagine him with any other name. "How come they called you that?"

Castiel sighed almost painfully. "I think I'm stoned enough to talk about it…" Dean looked at him worriedly.

"My father...,” he looked at the ceiling, pausing a little. The eyes hazy, the dark strands falling messily, the lips hanging open to exhale white swirls of smoke...“He was a great lover of the Bible, of God and his angels. Whether for his studies or faith I have no idea. I don't know what was going on through that man's head,” he said, his voice rougher than usual.

“Anyway, fact is I was born on a Thursday and from there the name came by itself. Castiel is the angel of Thursday."

"Oh...so you know a lot about angels?"

Cas clenched his jaw and stopped stroking Dean's hair. "Yes, I told you, my father was a very religious man. He taught me everything he knew and I believed every word..."

"Is your father...?"

Cas paused for a moment, inhaled the smoke, and threw it out, his gaze lost. “I don't know," he said after a while, his voice smaller. "I don't know what happened to him. I just know that he's an old bastard who wasn't able to take care of his only family."

Dean looked at him confused.  
“He ran away when I was twelve, abandoning me. And then he dared to speak of God's love." He pulled himself up in a rush. 

"I'm sorry."

Cas shook his head and seemed to return to the present.  
“Dust and shadow.”

"Huh?"

"That's what it says." He pointed to the Enochian writing, the one that followed the line of the left pec.

"What does it mean??"

"Pulvis et umbra sumus."

"Dude, you aren't makin’ it any easier for me." At that, Cas laughed.

"No, I guess I'm not..." He cleared his throat. "It's a phrase, an ancient one, as you may have got from the Latin words. I actually don't know why I had it tattooed, I-I just liked the idea, thought it was kinda poetic. In ancient Rome, gladiators used to say those words before going to fight."

"Oh..."  
Cas looked at him dubious. "You still don't get it, huh?"

Dean simply shook his head and Cas chuckled. "It's something they used to say 'cause they knew they were probably going to die. 'We are but dust and shadow'. It was a reminder of human frailty and the common destiny that awaits us."

"And that used to comfort them?"

Cas shrugged and his gaze wandered a bit as if searching for the answer in some of his papers scattered around the room. “It's not necessarily a light that never goes out that's highest. Dust and shadow, I can imagine it now, I can hear the cries of the arena, the men sitting before a fight whispering dust and shadow, dust and shadow, like a mantra." His blue eyes were more alive than ever and Dean was silent, watching in fascination a smile graze Cas' lips, listening to his words...suddenly it was as he said, it was like being there.

“Men have something no one else has, Dean. Life's short and therefore intense. Those men remembered it every day because every day could be the last. Dying in glory or conquering freedom, but until then living intensely, giving all they had."

Castiel seemed to have finished speaking, the hint of a smile still on his lips. Dean looked at him unable to hide a sense of wonder. "It's beautiful, Cas... it's—wow."

Cas immediately grew shy and looked away, his cheeks flushed. "It was nothing..." he muttered under his breath.

"Oh, but it was. Christ, it looked like you were reading a poem."

Castiel laughed at that, then fell silent. "Yeah...the truth is...sometimes I get too lost in poetry...sometimes being human...death...well, it sucks and that's it."  
Dean was surprised, it was like hearing another person talking.

He tried to change the subject, to find again that boy who spoke of passion, of life and glory. “You're a real fan, aren't you? Literature, History, Theology...and what about drawing? I found-" Cas' eyes were immediately on him, flashing with wrath.

_Shit_

"You saw the drawings??"  
Castiel looked pissed as hell.

“Cas, don't- don't get mad, all right? You went to the bathroom and I saw a couple of papers among the books on the table and...” Castiel sighed. "Dean. I'm not mad."

"You're not?"

Castiel loaded a tape and returned to his side on the couch. "No, I'm not. It's just...I haven't drawn in a while."

"No?"

"Dean, just ask me what you want to know and that's it."

Dean looked at him for a long moment. "Why?"

Castiel took the paper Dean had found among the stack of books. There was a drawing of an angel with taut muscles, a spear in his hand, and a simple sheet to cover the bare skin in the most intimate parts. The pained expression was rendered in the smallest details, the muscles of the body looked real thanks to the mastery of chiaroscuro. Cas was fucking good.

“There are more in my room. Drawings, paintings...all angels. They used to fascinate me, more than that actually. I used to have faith, in them.”

"And now?"

"Not anymore." He tore up the paper in his hands and seemed tempted to burn it with the flame of the lighter.

Dean said nothing, then tried to open up, just as the boy had done with him. "It's funny..."

"Hilarious, freckles."

"Let me finish," Dean smiled softly at him and playfully punched him on the shoulder. He then placed his head on the boy's chest.

“I never had faith. My brother was the only good thing to always keep me going." He felt the weight of Cas' gaze on him.

"My mother used to tell me when she tucked me in that angels were watching over me. I thought she was wrong for a long time. After all, nothing had protected her. She was dead and our father was an old drunk around the streets."

Castiel had begun to stroke his arm, his touches growing agitated as soon as Dean mentioned his father. “Has he ever hurt you?"

“I appreciate the concern Cas, but no. He was never home. He would only come to collapse at night and dirty the house with vomit."

"Tsk," he snapped loudly his tongue.

“I know…It wasn't easy, but things have changed, you know. Bobby...he was always there for us and he did a lot, more than our father ever did..."

"Who's Bobby?"

“Oh, my dad's friend. Rough and grumpy, but with the heart of a teddy bear, kind of like you."  
Cas slapped him over the back of his head, laughed at Dean's shocked reaction, and resumed gently running his fingers over his arm. Dean leaned even closer to him.

"Bobby helped us, my dad's out of rehab and he's back to being a decent man."

"A father."

"Yes," he smiled at him. "I forgave him, Sam is still working on it. We're saving some money, I'm at my dream University when I didn't even think I'd make it through high school, and Sam's doing well, as he should."

"Hmm." He felt Castiel gently kissing the side of his neck, right below his ear.  
Dean could melt there, in his arms and under those gentle touches.

"All this to say that maybe, that angel's there after all." He met Cas' gaze, those blue eyes finally disarmed. They were beautiful, emotional, sincere.

Cas smiled at him and Dean kissed him passionately, his fingers gripping the black locks and his hands feeling the warmth of Cas' skin, the beat of his heart beneath his chest.

He pulled his lips away from him. "Why did you stop believing, Cas?"

Castiel gently took Dean's wrists, pulling them away from his skin.  
“Because with me and with many others, angels didn't do a hell of a job. I prefer to think that we are alone in our misery."  
He said nothing else and stood up to put on his t-shirt.

Dean's heart was clenched in a steel grip and he felt tears prickling his eyes. He didn't want to see the boy so disenchanted and alone, as he put it, in his misery.

"Good things do happen, Cas,” he said looking straight at him.

Cas stared back for a moment, then quickly looked away. "Not in my experience."

"I'd like to see you paint," he said without thinking.

Cas turned to him, looking surprised. He composed himself right after, masking every emotion on his face.  
"Yeah?"

Dean smiled at him and stretched out on the couch, his chin resting on his hand. "I could model for you, naked," he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I could be your Mona Lisa."

"I thought you were going to quote Titanic.”

"Oh? Did you see Titanic, Cas?"

Cas threw a couch cushion straight in his face and suddenly walked away, accompanied by the sound of bare feet hitting the floor.  
Dean laughed and was about to get up from the couch when he saw Cas return with a small blank canvas and paintbrush in his hand. The boy took out the tape and played some music from his phone.

_I know that you say: I get mean when I'm drinking, but_   
_Then again sometimes I get really sweet, so, what does it mean?_   
_If I tell you to go fuck yourself_   
_Or if I say that you're beautiful to me_

He sat cross-legged on the small table in front of the couch. He then nodded to Dean. “Take off your sweatshirt,” he said in a hoarse voice, his eyes once again filled with lust.

Dean gave him a seductive smile and pulled his sweatshirt over his head, slowly. Cas did not waste time and ran his hand over the muscles of Dean’s chest, taking his breath away when his fingers clenched around his nipples.  
Dean glared at him. “The painter cannot abuse his models.”

“Only if the models aren't consenting”, he nodded to the obvious tent in Dean's boxers.  
Dean covered his face in shame.

Castiel grinned at him and then continued to mark his skin and muscles with the touch of his hand as if to memorize every part of his body.

He gently traced the contours of the eyes, lips, and cheekbones with his fingertips. “Fuck, how the hell am I supposed to draw you? If you weren’t so fucking perfect-" Dean smiled widely at him. “I’m talking about symmetries, green eyes, don’t get cocky now.”

Dean kept smiling at him, his cheeks slightly dyed red. Cas’ eyes were on him the all time, eagerly observing every detail. Even his cheeks turned color, and Dean decided to tease him about it.

“You think you’re funny?”

Dean curled his lips and moved his eyelashes in a seductive motion. “I think I’m adorable.”

“Hmm, have fun now, Dean, but I’ll be the one laughing when I slam you out the door with no clothes on and ass in the air."

“Sounds sexy.”

Cas rolled his eyes, then seemed to remember the blank canvas in front of him. He painfully increased the grip on the brushes and took a deep, almost painful breath. He looked at his hands and then at Dean.

Seeing him doubting, Dean got rid of his underwear and stretched out on the couch, forming a sinuous curve with his body. Cas wouldn’t take his eyes off him.

“Draw me like one of your French girls, Cas," he said to distract Cas from whatever seemed to be haunting him, a broad grin on his face.

His plan seemed to work because Cas laughed softly, shaking his head. Then, his hands began to move decisively on the white canvas and he began to draw as if he’d never quit.

Dean saw Cas’ eyes turn an even deeper blue, his slender, tattooed hands dancing softly on the canvas, his lower lip caught between his teeth, and his hair falling messily over his forehead. Dean watched him silently. His heart was pounding every time Cas met his gaze, and he was afraid that the loud noise of its beat would be heard all over the room.

And it was just like that...after a long time, Castiel took a paintbrush in his hand and started to paint again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it. This was a chapter I looked forward to traduce and post. In the next chapter there will be the introduction of new characters...Wonder who will they be, hehehe
> 
> Songs.
> 
> Take me to church- Hozier  
> Affection -Cigarettes after sex  
> Umbrella- Ember Island
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Another chapter for ya. As always, thank you for any support and feedback!! Of course, enjoy!

Dean slowly opened his eyes, the light entering the room through the windows bothered him.

He shifted, not so gracefully, (in his defense he was still more asleep than awake) and his elbow collided with something in the process, probably the nightstand.

"Nng."

Apparently, nightstands grunted now.

An arm wrapped around his waist and pressed him against the warmth of a solid body, and Dean was suddenly awake, his eyes open to capture the details around him: the messy pile of books, the clothes scattered on the floor, the morning light bathing the room in shades of gold.

At that moment, he remembered the night before, when Cas had started painting him, when desire had taken over and the boy had taken him right there, on that couch. The image was still vivid in his mind. Cas’ strong arms around his waist, the rough mark of his fingers on his thighs, his hoarse voice to spur him to meet his thrusts and get up again and again, impaling himself on his cock.

A warm breath tickled his neck and brought him back to the present. "Hmm. Go back to fuckin' sleep."

Dean laughed. Apparently, Castiel wasn't the morning type.

He tried to extricate himself from the boy's grasp and reach out to take the phone, but Cas increased the grip on his waist, holding him tightly to himself. "Cas!! You go on like that, I'll have broken ribs."

“...Annoying...”

“Come on,” he said trying and failing to free himself from Cas' arm. For someone half asleep, he sure had a steel grip. “Caas.” The only answer was just another grunt.

He turned and saw Castiel's face pressed against his back, dark hair covering his face. Dean couldn't resist and run his fingers through the unruly locks.

"Hm."

"You don't talk much in the morning, do ya?"

"Hm."

Dean laughed. He made another attempt to reach for his phone and this time Castiel's grip softened enough for him to do so.

"It's ten, Cas."

"...night..."

_Wow_

"No, Cas, it's ten in the morning, it's daylight, the birds are singing...Look, the sun's shining..." He grabbed the boy's chin in an attempt to expose his face to the light, but Cas was faster. He suddenly grabbed his wrist and mounted on top of him with an agility that shouldn't be possible for someone who, two seconds before, couldn't put two words together.

Dean found himself with both hands above his head, Cas wrapping his wrists in an iron grip. The boy was beautiful above him, his eyes vivid blue yet still a little sleepy, his hair falling in a tuft on his forehead, a playful smirk on the face.

He saw Cas’ eyes resting on his throat, on his chest. He brought a hand to caress the marks he'd left on him the other night. Dean breathed harshly as Cas pressed his fingers on the bruises and watched intensely for every reaction. “Hmm.” His gaze then rested on Dean’s lips and he bent down to kiss them. Dean urgently reciprocated, his tongue dancing with Cas’, teeth scratching lips from time to time.

He moved his hands to test the grip Cas had on his wrist and let out a groan when he felt the boy's hand tighten even more, fingers pressing into the skin. Cas pulled away and Dean tried to chase him, their lips still connected by a string of saliva.

Cas took his wrists in both hands again and watched Dean's eyes widen at the gesture. "Hmm." He tightened his grip and Dean let out a whimper, _a fucking whimper_.

“I think you have a kink, Dean. Next time I could tie you to the bed. Legs too, that way you’ll always be ready for me. How about that, darling?”

“C-cas...” The image was enough to make him suddenly hard.

“Just as I thought.” Castiel smiled at him, held his wrists in one hand, and passed the other to caress his chest, his stomach, the tender skin of his hips.

“Fuckin’ tease.”

Cas roughly grabbed his erection and Dean felt his eyes rolling to the back of his head, his mouth wide to let out a filthy moan.

“That’s more like it.” And just like that, he began moving his hand. His fingers started at the base until they slowly reached the head, running his thumb over the sensitive veins and picking up the drops of precome that were already forming. "Already wet Dean?" He taunted.

Dean just looked at him, his eyes wide and clouded with pleasure.

"I asked you a question." The harsh tone was accompanied by the sudden and rough movement of his hand.

"Fuck, fuck. Yes-yes!"

"Just for me?" His hand moved impossibly faster, tearing whimpers and moans from Dean, then stopped altogether. "Cas, what-" He finished the sentence screaming in pleasure. Without hesitation, Cas had buried himself in one thrust inside of him.

He caught the boy greedily looking at the connection of their bodies. Cas stroked his thumb over Dean's hole, stretched around his cock and still damp from yesterday's lube.

_Shit_

Dean had to force himself not to come.

He got rid of the blanket they'd spent the night with and moved closer to Dean's face. He released his wrists and brought his hands next to his head instead. Their faces inches apart, Castiel's labored breathing was mingling with his own.

"You're gonna fuck me again, Cas?" He managed to ask. The sensation of Cas’ cock inside of him was so overwhelming, it was hard to even speak.

"Yes, I'm gonna fuck you nice and slow and you're gonna take it like the good boy you are." Dean fisted the fabric of the couch, Castiel's words a chill traveling through his whole body.

"Do it."

Castiel looked at him captivated. He took his hands between his own, crossed their fingers together, and started pushing in and out of his body, deliciously dragging his cock against Dean's tight inner walls. At first, he moved slowly, just as he said, then impossibly faster and far more forceful. Dean felt split in two from the inside every time Cas entered his body. “Fuck, Cas, Cas!”

Castiel was indulging himself in sounds of pleasure, his head hidden under Dean’s neck, his breath tickling his collarbone.

“I’m—near!”

“You’re gonna come on my cock, green eyes?” He smiled at him, showing his teeth. His pupils were blown wide, his eyes starving.

“Ye-Oh, God!” Dean bit his lip hard and closed his eyes, as Cas gripped his thighs pulling them even more apart.

"T-together.” It was all he could say.

"Fuck," Cas hissed. He increased his efforts, calibrated his thrusts, and directed them to hit that bundle of nerves. "Shi-t, Cas-Cas-"

"-Fuckin—Deaaan!" Both of their voices sounded shattered as their bodies desperately sought release. Cas’ fingers grazed his cock and that was all it took for Dean. He came first with a cry that made his throat burn. Cas followed him soon after, whispering Dean's name between his lips as if it were something holy.

Cas rested his weight on Dean’s body. Sweat was glued to their skin, just as Dean's come between their stomachs.

"For someone who doesn't like to wake up early, you sure are full of energy in the morning," Dean said out of breath, he felt like he'd run a marathon.

"Hmm." Cas' breath against his throat, their hands still curl together, the warm morning light reflecting on his black and messy hair.

_He could get used to waking up like this._

He brushed his thumb over the back of Cas' hand and prayed the boy wouldn't freak out from the touch and pull away.

Cas didn't do anything. He lifted his head to meet Dean's gaze, resting his chin on his chest. He looked at him intently, the blue in his eyes made brighter by the light in the room.

Cas didn't say or do anything to push his hands away, but then Dean smiled at him and his heart beat impossibly faster. Freckles scattered across his skin, his eyes green and vibrant, his lips red and puffy, the blond hair shining like gold in the sunlight. Castiel thought he saw an angel, one of those he hadn't painted in years.

_Angels didn't exist though._

He gently pulled out of Dean's body and got off the couch. Dean immediately sit up and looked at him in alarm.

"Maybe it's time for that shower,” he said, feeling a smile tugging up his lip.

The muscles of Dean's body visibly relaxed and a smile appeared again on his face. "Another round already?" Dean asked, eyes devouring every detail of his naked body.

"My eyes are up here, Dean," he said, the amusement evident in his voice.

Dean looked at him as if completely innocent and Castiel couldn't help but smile.

_To wake up like this every morning..._

He drove his thoughts away. "I don't think there'll be a second round, shower sex is complicated, isn't it?"

Dean gaped, knowing full well he couldn't go against his own words and twisted his face into an adorable pout.  
 _  
Adorable? What the fuck is wrong with you Castiel?_

"Why are you red in the face?"

"None of your fuckin' business."

"Rude. That can't be your answer to everything."

Castiel gave him a serious look. He took his hands and jerked him up off the couch. “My house, my rules. Now move your ass and get in the shower. I'll get the towels."

"Bossy."

He spanked him on the ass and took pride in seeing the red mark of his fingers briefly impressed on the soft skin.

Dean gasped. "Hey!"

"Go."

Dean headed for the bathroom laughing. "And stop looking at my ass!"

"As if I'm doing it!"

  
  


He was definitely doing it.

  
  
  


~

  
After the shower, they started cooking.

Dean was wearing one of Cas' t-shirts. It was large enough to reach just below his ass leaving the boxers uncovered, but Cas liked it that way. Over the shirt, the apron Benny had lent him.

Cas had laughed heartily when reading the phrase 'kiss the cook' on the apron. Dean had smiled openly at him while saying 'So you'll have an excuse to kiss me.' Cas had laughed even louder at that, throwing his head back and baring the white skin of his throat, his shoulders slightly shaken with laughter.

It was a sight that Dean could get used to, a moment he knew he would cherish.

He started working on the stove, casting displeased looks in Cas' direction every time he found a stain in the kitchen.

"Don't look at me like that. I never use them, I can't cook for shit. The only thing I can cook is bread and honey."

"You don't call that cooking. It's just...turning on the microwave and smearing honey on a piece of hot bread."

Cas had only answered with a grunt.

"Great comeback, Cas."

"The only reason I didn't throw you out yet is that I'm hungry."

"And you can't cook. So you need me."

Cas immediately came close to him and ravished his mouth. “Smartass,” he growled between kisses gripping his ass. Dean let out a _manly_ yelp.

After a session of languid kissing, with the potential of becoming so much more, Dean pushed him away and Cas went back to sit on the table stool to watch him cooking and steal a few pieces of food when having the opportunity. At some point, Dean was even forced to hit him with the spatula. "You don't help me like that."

“Hmm, you don’t know how it feels to see you with my shirt. Your bow legs bare, my marks on your skin..." he said in that ridiculous gravelly voice of his, reaching out one hand and passing his fingers to touch the bruises Dean had on his neck and collarbones. He seemed to have an obsession with Dean bearing his marks. He was forced to use the spatula once again. “And you don’t help like this either!”

Cas smiled at him, his white teeth sharp and uncovered like those of a shark. Needless to say, Dean was the fish.

“Don't be annoying and make coffee, Cas.”

“Where are your manners, Dean?”

“Go fuck yourself.” Cas laughed and went away to make coffee.

His movements were painfully awkward. It was the first time he’d seen Cas so insecure in doing something. The kitchen was definitely not his natural environment. He tried not to laugh at the thought but failed miserably. Cas noticed right away and turned to him, flipping him the bird. Dean laughed even more. “God—you're so terrible at this!”

Before Cas could do anything about it, like finally keeping his promises and punishing Dean for his impertinence, someone knocked on the door and spoiled the fun. _Oh, well, another time then_

Dean was about to move but was stopped by Cas’ arm. "Don’t even think about it, green eyes." His gaze slid over Dean's body, lingering on the red and purple marks of his skin and the bare legs.

"Oh...yeah, uh, maybe you’re right," he said realizing his conditions.

He watched curiously Cas opening the door and immediately heard the chirpy voice of a man on the other side.

"Heyo, Cassie!"

Cas was about to snap the door shut, but a foot slipped in creating an opening at the last second. Cas seemed to acknowledge his defeat and stepped back letting the man enter. He scrubbed a hand over his face in clear exasperation. _Now, that, was curious_

"I'm glad to see you too, baby bro. Don't get too excited though-"

"-Oh, fuck you, Gabriel, it's too early for this shit."

Gabriel, as Castiel had called him, was a man in his thirties, or so it seemed. The childish and amused gaze might have well belonged to that of a child. He was short, hazel eyes, light and fairly long hair. A lollipop in his mouth and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, which turned even more heated as soon as he noticed Dean's figure standing behind the counter.

Dean gaped, feeling like he had to say something. Gabriel anticipated him. "Wow, Cassie, now I see why you weren't answering your phone."

Cas looked at him like he was about to take one of the kitchen knives and commit murder. Dean only felt slightly embarrassed. "Um, hi, I'm-"

"-Don't talk to him!"

Gabriel brought both hands over his heart and mimicked a hurt expression, his mouth twisted in a silent cry of pain. Cas liked to call Dean melodramatic, but this Gabriel guy was entirely on another level.

"You wound me, little brother."

"Little brother???" The two couldn't be more different, physical aside, from what he'd witnessed their personalities were about as compatible as oil and water.

"He's just saying. We're not brothers."

Gabriel looked taken aback, hurt even, then humor returned to his eyes. "Not your blood brother anyway. Gabriel, stepbrother of this grumpy over here, a pleasure."

"Oh." _Cas had never said anything 'bout it..._

"And you big boy are...?"

"Gabriel!"

Dean watched the looks the two of them were exchanging. Gabriel looked like he was having the time of his life and Cas would be taken those kitchen knives any minute now. It was only a matter of time.

“Cas, stop making a fuss."

Cas clicked his tongue at him, and Dean glared. “Very mature.”

When he turned his gaze away, he realized Gabriel was looking oddly at him, something like surprise on his face.

"Um, pancakes are ready, uh, your brother...if he wants, he could join us-"

“-Gabriel was just leaving."

"Castiel."

The perpetually amused expression vanished from Gabriel's face. His eyes hardened and his lips became a thin line. “We have to talk, whether you like it or not. I can even do it in front of the kid, It's up to you." Castiel's eyes widened and his hands clenched into fists.

“My patience has a limit, I haven't heard from you in a month now. I wouldn't want to kick out your Adonis over there- "

"-Hey!”

"I can wait for breakfast, then we talk. And that's the end of it."

The air grew tense and Dean had the feeling of intruding a private moment, something he didn't understand and didn't concern him at all.

"All right," was Castiel's dry reply.

"Uhm...pancakes?"

"Dean, go change first," Cas replied staring right at him, not even blinking. Dean blushed, remembering his condition and the fact he was still wearing Benny's apron.

“Cassie, don't worry, I wouldn't dare. Even though, you really are a pretty thing, Dean-o. "

Dean rolled his eyes, which made Gabriel smile even more and went to the bathroom. As he walked away, he heard Cas growling at Gabriel to shut up, and the other bursting into laugher. Needless to say, Dean didn't look forward to breakfast...

To say he'd had the right feeling was an understatement. No one had said a word at the table, the only noise was cutlery and mouths chewing. Dean made the mistake of looking up from his plate. The scene before him was physically painful. Cas with a stubborn frown on his face and refusing to eat, Gabriel drowning pancakes in...what looked like maple syrup.

Dean cleared his throat. “Cas...they get cold. You know you eat food, you don't look at it, right? " He tried to lighten the mood with some humor, but Cas gave him a murderous look. Dean did the same. The time to be intimidated by him was over. If he wanted to be an asshole, Dean wouldn't stay silent and just take it.

"Well, I think this is the last time I bother cooking for you."

"Nobody fuckin' asked you."

Dean raised his hands to the sky, almost making the cutlery fly backward. "Okay," he said exasperated.

He went back to eating, pretending he didn't care a thing. He probably didn't do a great job. He could almost feel the weight of Cas' gaze on him.

The boy sighed and began to eat. He looked again at him, something like guilt flickering through his eyes. "Not bad, green eyes," he said, hinting at a smile.

Dean smiled at him in return, one corner of his mouth quirking up.

Gabriel had stopped eating and was watching the scene with interest. "Dean, right?" Dean nodded at him and smiled when he saw Cas rolling his eyes.

"Are you and Cassie...together?"

Dean had never been able to answer unexpected questions with tact and sensitivity. Things hadn't changed. Gabriel's question made him choke and cough for half a minute. The man seemed amused, Cas not so much.

"Uhm...uhm, well we-"

"-No."

Gabriel looked at Castiel, raising his eyebrows. "No?"

"If you really care to know, we fuck, Gabriel. That's all."

"Wow, Cas, tell us what you really think." He was furious, he was hurt, sarcasm was his only form of defense. Deep down he knew that was all he had with Castiel, but hearing him say it so casually...It made him feel bad.

Gabriel seemed to notice. "So, Dean-o...do you study here?" He'd been acting like an asshole since the moment he got there, but he seemed to hold some compassion for him and Dean was grateful. He started telling briefly where he came from and about his study plans. All the time, he felt the intensity of Cas' gaze upon him.

He didn't care.

They finished eating, Gabriel complimented him on breakfast, 'You gotta keep this one, Cassie' and Castiel walked him to the door.

He wouldn't even look him in the eye.

"It's better if you don't come for a while..." He nervously scratched his chin and seemed to have trouble expressing what he wanted.

"Okay," Dean only said, he feared his voice would have started to break. He waited for Cas to say something but he didn't. “Uh, okay, uhm...see you, then.” He chewed his lip, Cas still wouldn't look at him. “Okay...”

He made to leave, but Cas stopped him by grabbing his shoulder. He often placed his hand there. Dean's heart skipped a beat and he hoped Cas would ask him to _stay_. But the boy quickly pulled away, as if the mere contact with Dean's body burned.

"Dean, time with you was...I'm glad you came, really...you...I ask, uh, just a little time. That's all." The blue eyes were dull, the smile forced.

 _Why are you doing this? What's wrong, that you are not telling me?_ He'd wanted to ask it and stay close to him until those blue eyes lit up again, but Cas moved away from him, and Dean couldn't find the courage. He only nodded at him and Cas closed the door.

Dean felt his lips tickle. He wished he'd kissed him one more time, before going.

  
  


~

"Hey Charlie, what’s up?  
  
Yeah, I know I'll see you tomorrow to study. God, you've told me a hundred times already, I don't have the memory of a fish— Hmm, okay, maybe—All right, all right, I suck at remembering things, thanks for always making me feel appreciated.

Oh, is Dorothy with ya? Yeah, tell her I said hi. You go girl!" Dean chuckled and ended the call. He was happy for Charlie and her new girlfriend, Dorothy, the fairy-girl at the party. So it turned out that while Charlie was making acquaintances and important steps that night, Dean had more alcohol in his body than he could handle and had ended up calling Castiel.

_God he really was an idiot_

Castiel...sometimes he wished he'd never made that call, never got closer to that boy. Part of him, his wounded pride probably, hated the fact that he’d fallen into the net like everyone else. Another drove him to seek out those blue and haunted eyes again and again. It probably was the part of him that had realized he fell in love.

He was screwed, and not in a good way.

He looked at his phone, still no call from Cas, despite Dean's messages and his numerous attempts to contact him. It was as if Cas had gone missing and Dean...he didn't know how to deal with it.

He’d tried asking around at the university. At lunch, he'd snuck out into the backyard to see if Cas had shown up, but he hadn't seen him anywhere, not even with his friends...Dean would have to point out to Cas sooner or later what a bunch of assholes he was hangin’ out with...

_"Um..." Dean's hands were sweaty and he cursed the fact he could hear his own voice shaking._

_In front of him, a tattooed blond guy in a t-shirt with a ridiculous V-neck, Meg, who had made sure to let him know she hated his guts, and another boy leaning against the wall, who Dean had yet to get an idea of._

_Everyone's eyes were immediately on him._

_"Seriously?" Meg's voice. "What the fuck, I'm leaving," the girl said before going back inside. (Again, Dean knew she wasn't a fan, but he wouldn't have expected that.)_

_"Meg! Wait! Uh, hi, I guess...See ya, Crowley," the blond boy said so before running after Meg._

_Dean heard a deep laugh. He was the boy with his back against the wall, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, dark hair, and piercing eyes. The v-neck guy had called him Crowley._

_"Bloody hell. Great entrance, squirrel,” he said in a clearly British accent._

_"Squirrel? Does Cas still call me that?"_

_The boy looked at him for a long time, he seemed more than amused. "Cas...that's cute, you give each other nicknames...” he smiled smugly at him and Dean felt his skin stand. “Anyway no, he doesn't call you like that anymore," he said putting out his cigarette. "But I think it suits you."_

“ _Uh...nice to meet ya, I guess. Name's Dean.” Dean held out his hand. “I was wondering...did you see Cas like...recently?”_

_The boy did not move but looked briefly at his outstretched hand, then at Dean, a mocking expression on his face. “How it is that you lost him? I thought you two were attached to...well...” He pointed his dark eyes at Dean’s pants. “...Everything.”_

_Dean immediately took his hand off. Wow, just what he needed, a smug asshole with a crappy sense of humor._

_He tried to be patient. “Yeah...uhm...it’s just, it’s been a while since I heard from him, that’s all, so I was wondering if-”_

“ _-I see. You do hope Castiel will return to ya,” he said, detaching his back from the wall and slowly approaching him.“I admire your loyalty, really. I only wish he felt the same.” He shrugged, a morbid glint in his eyes, a smile of fake compassion on the face._

“ _Crowley, by the way, darling,” he then said, holding out his hand, his breath rotten with smoke._

_Dean quickly moved away without saying anything, Crowley’s rough laughter behind him._

Just the memory of that encounter was enough to make his skin crawl. “ _I only wish he felt the same...”_

_That pompous British dick_

He took the keys to the Impala. He'd go for a ride, driving baby had always calmed him down. He prayed it wouldn't be any different this time.

He drove and drove with Led Zeppelin in the background and without even realizing it, he ended up parking in front of the beach where he and Cas had been.

“Oh, come on. Son of a bitch!" He accidentally hit the horn and a chubby lady in her sixties passing by cast him a disgusted look.

Dean smiled sourly in return. He was almost tempted to sound the horn again, this time on purpose. Instead, he looked at the ocean, its blue waters shining in the sun, its almost infinite expanse, a blue line on the horizon.

He remembered the look Cas had on his face while staring at the beach and the waves, he remembered his sincere and beautiful smile, their night in the Impala...their first time...

_Fuck_

He'd gone to the very place he needed to avoid.

He got out of the car anyway and started walking along the beach. The cold wind was biting his skin and he felt his nose turn red. There was a particularly violent gust of wind and the scarf he'd been wearing went in front of his face, obscuring his view. "Son of a -" He stumbled, falling on what must have been a person.

Dean was mortified. He wanted to keep hiding his face under his scarf and pretending to be dead, but the more time went on the more he realized he was still on top of a poor soul.

"Shit, I mean, sorry-"

He quickly pulled the scarf away from his eyes and made to get up when he met two familiar blue eyes and heard the unmistakable sound of Castiel's laughter.

"Seriously? You, Cas? "

In return, Castiel laughed even harder. His head in the sand, the column of his neck exposed. Dean felt his mouth salivate with the urge to run his tongue and mark the soft skin.

“We're back to the start, green eyes? Thought you were no longer trying to kill me, that you liked me."

"Nah, you stay a dickhead."

Cas raised an eyebrow and Dean had forgotten how damn sexy he could be. "Do you want a cup of tea or do you think you can get the fuck out of my way and let me up?"

Dean looked at him for a long time. "Tea? Really? You spend too much time with your British pals."

"Fuck off, green eyes."

He moved him over with ease and Dean lied saying the show of strength didn't send blood to the southern part of his body.

Castiel began to walk away. Dean followed him.

"Hey, wait! Why didn't you answer me? Even better, where have you been? I haven't heard from you in a week, you could have told me something, just to let me know you were alive- "

"-Dean, you sound like a worried wife, calm down."

“Calm—Hey!” He stopped him by gripping his arm and stood in front of him. He wouldn't let this go.

"It's no use looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

Castiel sighed and tried to move on, Dean stopped him.

“Dean, you're acting like a fuckin' child."

“Oh yeah, Cas? 'Cause, it seems to me I'm the only adult here. I'm not asking a stupid question. I just wanna know why you disappeared, if I can do something- "

"-You can't."

Dean fell silent. Cas' eyes were angry yet sad at the same time.

"Gabriel-"

"-It's none of your fucking business and I don't want to talk about it." He walked past him, colliding with his shoulder.

"Why does everything have to be so hard Cas?"

He gave him a wide smile, his expression sarcastic and his eyes distant. "It's life, my friend."

“Are you high? When you're high you come out with this hippie bullshit.”

Castiel only laughed, leaning forward.

"Cas!"

Castiel looked at him suddenly serious, perhaps he'd caught the urgency in his voice.

"I called you, every night..."

"I know-"

"-You know and you didn’t-" He didn't finish the sentence, he bit his tongue until it hurt and tried to calm himself. He took a deep breath.

"I don't expect you to tell me anything you don't want to, but...next time, just let me hear from you...let me know that you're okay."

Cas looked at him for a long time, then cleared his throat. "All right."

Dean cracked a smile. Then he fell back to the ground, his face down and his mouth eating sand. He felt a weight over his back and heard Cas laughing. He lifted his head from the sand and felt the weight disappear. Suddenly, a long tongue licked his face. "Oh for fuck's sake!" He tried to repair himself with his hands. "Gross!"

He managed to get up and cast a reproachful look at Cas. The bastard was just standing there, more than amused. He didn't lift a finger while Dean had been assaulted by—

— the most beautiful and cute dog he'd ever seen!

"Hey! Come here, buddy, come here."

It was a large dog, with long beige fur, a bit dirty, but Dean couldn't care less. The dog jumped on him, Dean let it lick his face and wrapped his arms around the dog's neck, as if to hug it.

Cas watched the scene in silence, a spontaneous smile on his lips. “He must be a stray. It's a miracle he survived this cold.” He bent down to caress him. Dean was still sitting on the sand, the dog on him.

Castiel's expression relaxed while stroking the dog's head and a ghost of a smile twitched the corners of his lips.

"Good boy."

Dean associated Cas' tone of voice and those words with not-so-decent moments spent together. It was stupid, the context had nothing to do with it, but his face still turned red and his body hot.

“Really Dean? With the dog?"

Dean turned even redder. Cas brought his fingers to play with his earlobe, certainly not improving the situation, and smiled at him, then stood up.

"What are we gonna do with him?"

"I think there are kennels for this, Dean."

Dean looked sternly at him, then pointed to the dog. He seemed smarter than most people Dean had the displeasure of meeting because he lowered his ears and widened his eyes adorably, as if he understood the situation.

“So what you're telling me is you'd put him in a kennel? A good boy like him? Look at him, Cas."

"Do you have a better idea, green eyes?"

"He could stay with you."

"Staying with-" The dog barked and hopped across the beach, rubbing like a cat between their legs.

"Never gonna happen." If Cas was telling the dog or him, he didn't know. Probably both of them.

“Oh come on, Cas, please. Benny would kill me if- "

"-Who the fuck is Benny now?"

"Oh? Jealous much?"

The look Cas gave him back almost made him cream his pants. He awkwardly cleared his throat. "Roommate, apartments don't pay for themselves."

"Tsk."

Dean laughed. The dog barked again.

"So? The dog...your house..?"

"No, I'm sure Benny won't have any problems."

"You're an asshole."

Cas grinned, only confirming his theory. "Nah, I'm just more of a cat type."

Dean pretended he hadn't heard that and leaned over to pat the dog. He had no collar, his bones protruded beneath the pile of fur and he was trembling slightly from the cold, his eyes empty and sad. It was truly a miracle to have found him, Dean certainly wouldn't leave him there or abandoned him alone in a kennel.

"Miracle..."

The dog barked, almost giving him consent.

"Miracle?"

“That's his name. You're coming home with me today, buddy. Don't worry, Cas likes you, It's just a little hard for him to express human emotions."

"Fuck you, Dean."

The two burst out laughing as they looked at each other. The sound of their laughter mixed with Miracle's barking.

Dean felt good and had a feeling that things would stay that way.

  
  


_Was he wrong though..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know how to feel about this chapter...any thoughts? :)) ( Maybe It's cruel for me to say it, but hope you're anxious about the last phrase... )
> 
> Songs:  
> "Fai rumore" Diodato ( I'm Italian, if anyone's curious about Italian songs, here's one that I like to imagine for this chapter)  
> "Angels like you" Miley Cyrus ( Don't know why but this song has me streaming in tears)  
> "Love in the Dark" Adele ( I simply like this song)


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